


Guess I'll Die

by aibidil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Consent Issues, Demisexual Scorpius Malfoy, Dick Poking, Discussion of sexual assault, Dubious Consent, Duelling, Falling In Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Or Die, Genital Tickling, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Legilimency, M/M, Madam Pomfrey is a BAMF, Occlumency, Oral Sex, Pining, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Weasley cousins - Freeform, school-issued lube, sequined pillows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 09:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17301968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/pseuds/aibidil
Summary: Albus’s life is as it has always been; he’s trying not to let on that he’s in love with his best friend while also having to dodge tickling spells hurled at his groin during duelling practice. But then he and Scorpius are hit with an illegal hex—they have to have sex, or the curse will deplete their magical life-force. It’ll be fine, Albus thinks. They will have sex and then pretend it never happened. No big deal. Right?





	Guess I'll Die

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not read this fic if you are bothered by depictions of sex between two seventeen-year-olds.
> 
> If you want context for the "dubious consent" tag, check the endnote.
> 
> Big thanks to goldentruth813 and violetclarity!
> 
> Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/wz2ay0oiq6i8gof2yeu4552uu/playlist/1oLgzoxDoEKlCH8PHYmtrJ?si=jEuzsRu3RnKCuX1E0RkWyg)!

Albus tries to ignore the small tuft of blond hair sticking up on the back of Scorpius's head as they walk down the corridor. His fingers itch with wanting to smooth it down, but he can't.

He should be able to ignore it. Mates are always ignoring things like each other's hair. Albus stuffs his hands in his robe pockets.

"Oi!" Rose shouts. "Are you ever going to admit how much you fancy him?!"

Albus's head swings up in horror—but Rose is facing away from him, nudging Polly Chapman with her elbow. Polly, in turn, is staring at Yann Fredericks, and Albus breathes a sigh of relief.

"What's going on?" Scorpius leans to whisper in Albus's ear.

Albus leans back. "Rose asked Polly when she's going to admit she fancies Yann."

"Why would she keep it secret?" Scorpius hisses back. "It has to be better to just say it. Plus, don't you think Yann is definitely into her?"

"I—" Albus starts, but Rose turns to them and Albus uses it as an excuse to shut his mouth.

"Honestly," Rose says, "we're in _seventh year_. You'd think we'd have left these childish games behind us."

"I don't see you with a boyfriend or girlfriend, Rose," Scorpius observes, and while there's no malice in the statement, it still makes Rose flush, and Albus feels his lips twitch into a smile.

"Yes, well," Rose says, standing tall, "I'm not interested in anyone at the moment."

"Yeah," Scorpius says, throwing an arm around Albus's shoulders. "We're all happy how we are, right Al?"

Albus's neck burns; he can feel the heat—some strange mixture of shame and embarrassment and desire—coursing through his chest and gut. "Er, yeah."

Scorpius removes his arm from Albus's shoulders as they walk into the DADA classroom. They head to their desk at the back of the classroom, away from Rose and her Gryffindor mates, away from the other students who have been annoying and ignoring and teasing them in turns for the past six years. As soon as he sits at the joint desk with Scorpius, Albus relaxes. He loves Rose, but he's never quite comfortable when he's with her; he never knows what she might burst out and say, especially because Albus knows she is smart enough to have realised how Albus feels about his best friend.

"We're duelling today, right?" Scorpius asks, pulling out his parchment and two quills, placing one in front of Albus. "I was reading about best usage of the _Flipendo_ , and how the timing is key. You need to make sure to flick your wrist after the..."

Scorpius's cheeks are pink in the excessive warming charms of the DADA classroom and his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. Scorpius and Albus hate duelling—with anyone besides each other, that is. Together, they quite enjoy it. Albus is a bit faster, having grown up learning magic from his Gryffindor parents and fighting with his two Gryffindor siblings, but Scorpius chooses better spells and is more enthusiastic about reading up on the theory of duelling. Scorpius is fond of telling anyone who will listen that, "Together, Albus and I would be a perfect duellist!"

As is, they are far from perfect, but well-matched.

Albus realises belatedly that he's ignoring Scorpius's monologue about the theory behind well-cast Flipendos, though he _has_ made a mental catalogue of all the freckles on Scorpius's left cheek.

Professor Chang walks in and claps her hands to quiet the noise of 26 jabbering N.E.W.T.-level DADA students. "Alright!" she says, leaning onto her hands at the desk. "Today we're duelling, incorporating what we've learned in the past unit. That means all your O.W.L.-level duelling tactics are available to you, as well as nonverbal magic, Legilimency, and any offensive spell that is not an Unforgiveable and that will not maim or kill. This is our first time with Legilimency available in a duel, so does anyone have questions?"

Albus's heart jumps into his throat. Legilimency! What if—he turns to look at Scorpius. Scorpius is furiously scribbling notes.

"Scorp," he whispers, ignoring whatever Matty Thomas-Finnegan is asking Professor Chang. "I am shit at Occlumency! How am I supposed to use it in the middle of a duel?"

Scorpius sets his quill down, eyes flitting to the front of the room and back to Albus. "Do you want to wait to try that?" he whispers, concerned. "We can practice the Occlumency more before we try it in a duel."

A good part of the reason Albus is shit at Occlumency is that he's scared to practice with Scorpius. He figures he can also blame his dad.

"But I don't want to hold you back!" Albus hisses. "We need to be able to protect ourselves in messy, real-world situations!"

Scorpius wrinkles his nose; Albus tries not to think it's cute. "But Al, we live in Hogwarts. Hogwarts hasn't been dangerous since our dads left. We have time. No problemo."

"Are you sure?" Albus does not want Scorpius in his head, but he also doesn't want to prevent Scorpius from learning.

Scorpius smiles, and it's so genuine and beautiful that Albus has to lean away. "Of course!" He puts his hand atop Albus's and squeezes. "Don't worry. Today we'll just do everything _but_ Legilimency. Okay?"

"Okay," Albus sighs, relieved. That's better. He and Scorpius can duel as long as there's no danger of Scorpius trying to distract Albus with some sort of brain magic wherein he accidentally sees the way that Albus thinks about Scorpius when he’s alone, the way he fixates on Scorpius's bright eyes and babbling lips. Albus is doing his absolute damnedest to keep his feelings under wrap, to protect their friendship—the most important thing in his world! And he knows that Scorpius likes girls, because he asked out Rose in fourth year. Albus still remembers how his stomach dropped when Scorpius related his rejection by Rose; Albus had to ask him to _please_ not talk to him about girls anymore, because Albus can’t bear to hear to Scorpius talk about fancying someone else, it is just beyond the pale, and Albus needs Scorpius's friendship! He can't risk it!—and oh, god, he's freaking out. He takes a deep breath, trying to settle the fluttery panic in his chest.

"Al," Scorpius says, standing up and moving to the open section of the room where the class will duel. He grabs Albus's wrist and tugs him along. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Albus says. It's just Scorpius. They're going to duel.

"Take your places!" Chang calls. "At intervals at least three feet apart, please!"

Albus and Scorpius find a spot a pace away from Polly Chapman and Chad McLaggen. Scorpius drops Albus’s wrist once they're in the right place. Albus can feel where Scorpius’s fingers had been pressing into his skin, and he wants to scream, "No! Grab it again!" Instead, he folds his arms over his chest and hugs tight.

"Come on, Pol," Chad says, leaning over her in a way that even Albus, sexually inexperienced as he is, knows is lecherous and a bit predatory. "Come to the party in our room tonight; it will be great."

"No, thank you," Polly says firmly, and Albus is surprised she can be so calm in the face of McLaggen.

"You need to come, P-Chizzle," Chad whinges—actually whinges!

“No,” Polly says. “Back off.”

Albus sneaks a look at Scorpius.

"Don't be a prude, Pol," Chad leers.

Scorpius catches Albus's eye and leans close. "Are we—meant to say something in this sort of situation?" he whispers wildly. "I don't want to make it seem like we think she's a damsel who needs saving, but there's also that thing about how we're supposed to be upstanders not bystanders. Like, Polly seems fine, but also—" He trails off.

Albus wrinkles his nose. "But also." He sighs. Whatever; everyone hates them anyway. "Hey McLaggen, leave her the fuck alone, mate. She's clearly not interested."

Polly gives Albus a look that's somewhere between _thanks,_ and _don't draw attention to this arsehole, please._

"Come off it, Potter," McLaggen snaps, turning to face him and snorting with disbelief. "The only way you'd know what girls want is if Malfoy is secretly a girl."

Albus's heart speeds, his blood pounds his ears. He doesn't even hear Chang call for them to start, he just feels Scorpius pulling his arm, away from McLaggen.

Suddenly Scorpius's cold hands are on Albus's burning cheeks, forcing eye contact. "Don't listen to him. He's a—a—an arse trumpet."

Albus's heart rate starts to calm. "Yeah," he says, trying to laugh it off. "What a bell-end."

"Are you ready for me to wipe the floor with you?" Scorpius says. "Because we're supposed to be duelling."

Albus takes a step back, dislodging Scorpius's hands from his face. Truthfully, Albus doesn't give a fuck what Chad McLaggen or anyone else thinks of him and Scorpius—he just doesn't want _Scorpius_ to think Albus thinks of him that way. Even though he does. Because then he might—

"Ready?" Scorpius asks, taking three large strides backward.

Albus raises his wand, zeroing in on Scorpius. The rest of the room falls away as he thinks of what his dad taught him. _Don't take your eyes off your opponent. Try to think ahead to what they might do. Always have a Shield halfway formed in your mind. Try to visualise your magic cordoned off into different areas so you can tap into each area in quick succession rather than draining it all at once._

Scorpius smiles, then flicks his wand.

Scorpius is really good at nonverbal charms, and Albus can only guess where to throw up a Shield. " _Protego_!" Then Albus aims for Scorpius's wand arm. " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Scorpius's arm floats skyward, and Scorpius bursts into laughter. He tries to point his wand down at Albus to countercast, but his wrist keeps floating upward. "What the fuck, Al?!" he laughs. Albus catches his laughter.

"Potter! Malfoy!" Chang calls. "Focus!"

Scorpius gets control of his arm as soon as Albus's concentration breaks, and flicks his wand at Albus's middle.

Albus is still laughing, though, and doesn't manage to Shield himself. The magic hits him directly in the groin and—oh my god—he doubles over laughing as Scorpius's magic tickles his fucking dick and balls. "You can't!" Albus gasps over slightly aroused laughter. "You can't cast _Titillando_ at my dick, you cheater!"

"All spells are on the table, Allllllbus!" Scorpius trills. "Except Unforgiveables and Legilimency!" He flicks his wand again and Albus jumps over his magic, casting a sloppy _Finite_ at his groin that manages to stop the tickling of his dick, but not of his balls. He whips his wand back to Scorpius, though, and shouts, " _Colloshoo_!"

Scorpius's feet lock onto the ground, and Albus smiles. But then Polly backs into Scorpius, knocking him off balance. Albus rushes towards them, trying to stabilise Scorpius as he whips his head to look for McLaggen. McLaggen, the fucker, is pointing his wand at Polly with a lecherous look on his face. Albus turns to face Scorpius, reaching for his hand to keep him from falling, as Scorpius, eyes wide, pushes Polly out of the way.

Polly falls onto her bottom, sliding away, as Albus and Scorpius are hit with a blast of McLaggen's magic. Albus flies forward, but Scorpius's feet are still stuck to the floor, so Scorpius loses his balance, falling back, knees bent, and catches himself on his arms. Albus falls on top of him, rolling off onto his knees as soon as catches his breath. Scorpius had dropped his wand when he fell, so Albus grabs it, throws it back to him, and casts _Finite_ at Scorpius's feet.

Scorpius falls fully to the ground once his feet are unstuck. "Thanks. Ow." He grabs his head.

Now that Scorpius seems okay, Albus sits up. Fuck, his head hurts, too. He turns to McLaggen and sneers, "What the fuck did you do, McLaggen?"

Albus’s head pounds and he’s light-headed even though he’s sitting, his head swimming a bit as if his blood is rushing out of it. He grabs Scorpius’s knee in an effort not to keel over, and wrinkles his nose in confusion as the pain subsides; it almost feels like the pain seeps out of Albus’s body at the point of contact with Scorpius.

McLaggen stands to the side, looking at the three students on the floor, seemingly uncaring that he put them there. What hex did he use?

Chang runs over. "Stop!" she roars, and the room falls silent. She turns to McLaggen. "What did you hit them with?"

"I was aiming for Chapman."

Chang puts her hands on her hips. "And what was the curse?" she menaces. When he doesn’t answer, Chang turns to Albus and Scorpius and casts a simple diagnostic charm at them, frowning at whatever she sees. "Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, please go to the Hospital Wing. I'm not sure what the hex did, but that charm is not supposed to turn blue. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can sort you." She turns back to McLaggen, and Albus vaguely registers him telling her that he doesn’t know what he cast.

Albus stands, grabbing Scorpius's hand and helping him to his feet. Fuck, somehow that charm is still tickling his balls. But Albus can't cast a _Finite_ at his balls while everyone is looking, so he takes a deep breath before walking to their desk to pick up his bag. Scorpius follows, putting his papers into his bag with shaking hands, and they walk into the hallway.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Albus pulls his wand and awkwardly aims at his scrotum. " _Finite incantatum_." The odd feeling doesn't go away. "How much fucking magic did you put behind that _Titillando_ , Scorp? For the love of Merlin."

Scorpius huffs a quiet laugh. "Not much. I feel strange, too, though. You didn't hit me with anything. What does it feel like?"

"I dunno," Albus said. But Scorpius is right—it doesn't feel like tickling. That feeling has been gone for a few minutes. It feels like—well, like he's aroused. Well, nothing odd there, he thinks with a sigh. Scorpius's magic was just all over his genitals, of course he's aroused. "Er, I dunno." He does know, though; his dick is getting hard. "How do you feel?"

Scorpius laughs nervously. "Erm. I seem to be," he pauses, "rather stimulated."

Albus's eyes fly wide open. No point denying it if Scorpius is in the same position. “Yeah, me too.”

"Do you think," Scorpius asks, squirming, "McLaggen tried to cast some sort of arousal charm at Polly?"

"Fuck," Albus moans. "This is going to be the most awkward visit to the Hospital Wing ever."

***

They don't make it to the Hospital Wing.

The heavy breathing starts in the courtyard corridor. Scorpius latches onto Albus's arm. "I can't," he says, "I can't breathe. Are you okay?"

"Me too," Albus wheezes, uncertain what's happening, but it feels better when he's touching Scorpius so he grasps their hands together. "What the fuck?"

It feels like he wants to touch his dick, like that will somehow make the aroused ache go away, but when he presses the heel of his palm there, it just makes it worse. So he stops that, trying to force deep breaths into his belly, which feels tight.

The sharp pains deep in the gut start when they get to the first floor. Scorpius grabs Albus's other hand just as Albus feels like he's been stabbed.

"Al, maybe we should—" Scorpius starts, then cuts off with a gasp.

They pass out.

When Albus comes to, he's in the Hospital Wing. He realises he's still clutching Scorpius's hand. Odd that they’re in the same bed, Albus thinks. Scorpius, who is adjusting himself on the bed, seems to have just come to, also.

Albus sits up and jumps when he sees Madam Pomfrey and Professor Smythe standing at the foot of the bed. Albus snatches his hand away, and as soon as he isn't touching Scorpius, his head throbs. His whole body—his groin, his gut—is throbbing, actually; he feels like death. Like horny death.

"Mr Potter, calm down," Madam Pomfrey demands, hand on her hip.

Scorpius puts his hand on Albus's thigh, and the pounding lessens.

"Professor Smythe found you two unconscious in the corridor and brought you here. Would you like Professor Smythe to stay, or—" Pomfrey starts to ask.

"No!" Albus says, wanting as few people here as possible when he and Scorpius tell Pomfrey that fucking McLaggen somehow cursed them with consciousness-losing erections.

"Thank you," Scorpius says, "for, er, finding us. And for calling Madam Pomfrey. And for bringing us here so the students didn't trample us in the corridor." He laughs, but it's weak.

Professor Smythe smiles as she walks out. "Feel better, boys."

Pomfrey is casting at them before Smythe is out the door. "What happened? Were you hit with a curse? Or was it a potion?"

"Chad McLaggen," Albus says at the same time as Scorpius says, "We were duelling in Defence. He was aiming at Polly Chapman."

Pomfrey clicks her tongue. "Increased heart rate, breathing, blood pressure," she mumbles, frowns, and waves her wand again. Her eyes widen.

Scorpius grabs Albus's hand. "You make me feel better," he whispers, as if to explain.

Albus leans into Scorpius's shoulder. He can’t tell if his heart is pounding from the curse or from the affection he feels listening to Scorpius say that. It’s true though—it feels better when touching him.

"You two weren't—" Madam Pomfrey pauses, as if weighing her words. "Were you two engaging in activities of a sexual nature when this happened? Had you excused yourself from the classroom?"

Scorpius chuckles anxiously.

"No!" Albus insists, his face hot. It’s hard to concentrate, his attention torn between embarrassment, concern for Scorpius, and a bizarre concoction of pain and arousal.

Pomfrey conjures a Patronus; it's a hen. "Message for Minerva McGonagall. Call the Aurors. Bring Chad McLaggen to her office. I'll be there momentarily to explain." The hen pecks its way out of the room, and she turns back to them, folding her arms. "Well," she sighs. "Let me see if I can get rid of it."

The Aurors?! Albus's heart speeds yet more. “What did he do to us?”

"Yeah, get rid of what?" Scorpius asks, scratching his fingernail on the fleshy part between Albus's thumb and forefinger in a nervous gesture.

Pomfrey shushes them, waving her wand in a complicated pattern. "For Rowena's sake," she sighs. "It's attached to your magical cores."

"What has?" Albus cries.

She stops and looks at them with pity. "Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, you've been hit with a nasty curse. I assume you're currently experiencing erections."

Albus has never before been so happy for school robes.

Scorpius starts his anxious laughing again, and Albus squeezes his hand. He can tell Scorpius is worried and Albus’s desire to reassure his friend somehow outweighs the primacy of the painful arousal in his brain. He rubs his thumb over Scorpius’s hand, pleased when he feels Scorpius relax a bit.

“Yeah,” Albus mumbles, figuring this conversation can’t get any more awkward and he may as well own up to the boner.

She nods. "Curses of this type cause a magically induced sexual arousal. It won’t go away on its own; the arousal will consume the victim’s magic and life-force if it isn't released."

That does not sound good. Albus tries not to think about _release_ while Pomfrey is in the room.

"Er, what does that mean?" he asks, throat tight.

"It means you need to have sex, Mr Potter."

Albus’s mouth gapes. They— _what?_

"We need to—?" Albus asks wildly. "Couldn't we just, er…" He trails off, not sure which euphemism or hand motion for masturbation is appropriate in a discussion with the school matron.

"Masturbate?" she asks frankly, then shakes her head. "No, the magic won't release unless it's directed at another person." She sighs, raises a hand to her forehead. "A nasty, illegal, horrible spell! He'll be arrested." She frowns, twists her mouth. "He better be arrested."

"So," Scorpius says, voice getting higher with his anxiety, "we need to have sex with each other, or we will die?"

"Essentially," she confirms. "Well, you could have sex with anyone, but you'd each need to. Are either of you in a sexual relationship with anyone?"

They shake their heads.

As if this situation isn’t bad enough, Albus has to be reminded that no, they are _not_ a couple, no matter how much he wishes they were. He wants to crawl in a hole.

She sighs. "Therefore it would be simplest for you to have sex with each other. Our other option is we can try to research a way to get rid of the curse, but we're under a time constraint and removing malicious magic from magical cores is a dangerous business…" She trails off, thinking. "We could call in your parents; it's possible that using a sample of their magical material…"

"No!" Albus shouts, and Scorpius gives him a concerned look. "We don't have to tell our parents, do we?" This is already so fucking embarrassing.

"Well, no," she says. "You're both of age, you have full control over your medical treatment and medical records. I can't share this information with anyone without your permission, except for the mandate to report Mr McLaggen’s illegal behaviour to the Aurors. But they need not know you two were the victims of his curse."

Albus turns to Scorpius. Scorpius's grey-blue eyes look deep inside his, making Albus feel like Scorpius is seeing straight into his soul without ever casting _Legilimens_. It somehow makes Albus’s dick even harder, and Albus bites down hard on his lip to keep himself from reaching out for one of their cocks.

"We don't want anyone to know," Scorpius says. "Will it—if we—if Albus and I—if I have sex with Albus—will that get rid of it?"

"It certainly seems like it," she says, "although it's hard to tell exactly. These sorts of curses go in and out of fashion, and I’m not sure the exact nature of the one we’re dealing with. In the 90s it was fashionable to put sedative potions in drinks. In the 60s it was fashionable to put erotic agents in marijuana."

Albus's mouth drops open. What the fuck.

"In most cases, the magic releases once the sexual urge has been satisfied. Most of them require penetrative sex, though sometimes oral or other forms of mutually assisted orgasm have sufficed. It's all sexual assault, of course. You'll be able to press charges, if you like, but we can deal with that afterward. I haven't seen a spell like this in awhile, thank heavens. Is there anyone—is there anyone you want me to bring here? I want to emphasise that, from what I can tell, it's up to you with whom you have sex."

Albus's eyes widen. Is Pomfrey asking if she can fetch someone to have sex with them?! Albus has never seen an adult talk about sex so frankly. It is as disturbing as it is reassuring.

“No!” Albus says. “Like we said, we’re not in any relationship.”

"Yeah, we're fine!" Scorpius squeaks. "I want to have sex with Albus!"

The sibilant sound of his name echoes in the room as Albus tries not to meet anyone's eyes. For a moment, Albus worries he will pass out again; surely there’s no blood left in his head.

"I mean," Scorpius babbles, "I mean, if I have to have sex or else I will die, and Albus has to have sex or else he will die, we can just have sex together. We can do sex together, we do everything together. No big deal, right?! Right, Al? We do everything together anyway!" He starts to laugh nervously again, and Albus wishes the bed would swallow him whole, putting him out of his misery.

"Mr Potter?" Pomfrey asks, waiting for him to confirm that he's okay with this plan.

Fuck, _is_ he okay with this plan? Having sex with Scorpius is not a problem. Albus has fantasised about having sex with Scorpius multiple times a day for years. The problem is that in his fantasies it's never been assigned to them by a teacher! It's never been forced, it's never been outside of the context of desire and relationship and—

He turns to look at Scorpius. Scorpius's cheeks are slightly pink, and his eyes slightly dilated. His blond hair flops into one eye, and he's gorgeous. Albus's heart clenches as he says, "If you're okay with that plan, yeah. Yeah, of course."

Scorpius snorts, and Albus expects that it’s nerves again, not amusement. "Yeah, I am. I'm okay with that. I'm okay with having sex. With Albus Potter."

Pomfrey gives them an assessing look, hand on her hip. "Do you need instructions?"

Albus chokes. "Excuse me?"

"I am a certified to teach human sexuality and sexual education," she offers, and Albus wonders if he can Summon his invisibility cloak.

"No thank you!" Scorpius says with urgency. But then he turns to Albus with worry and whispers, "Do we? Need instructions?"

Albus's eyes widen. Scorpius is the only bloke he knows who has never been interested in porn or anything. "Er, no. Nope. We should be, er, a-ok." His cheeks feel so hot he's surprised he hasn't burst into flame.

"Alright," she says. "I need to go talk to the headmistress and the Aurors. I am going to send protection potions in. Wait for them, but make sure you take action within," she looks at her watch, "an hour or two, to be safe, otherwise you will be operating from a position of ill health. This room is private and warded."

"Alright," Scorpius says. "Gotcha. So we'll just make sure we have sex in the next hour, on your orders, and with school-provided protection potions."

Madam Pomfrey presses her lips together and leans forward. "Mr Malfoy, are you sure I can't notify your father for you? You seem like you might need your support system in place for this."

"No," Scorpius whispers, and Albus's chest aches.

He reaches an arm around Scorpius's shoulder and squeezes, exercising an enormous amount of willpower to ignore his cursed arousal in favour of focusing on his friend’s feelings. "It's okay, Madam Pomfrey, really. We're each other's support system."

Scorpius smiles, and Albus can tell that he's trying to reassure her.

"Right then," she says. "I have to go talk to the headmistress; I’ll be back in a bit if you need anything, but I'll give you a full check-up in a couple days' time; that should be long enough to make sure all traces of the malicious magic have left your systems. If you need me before then, you summon me with this, do you hear?" She places a small bell on their side table. "Well then.” She pauses, looking at them with an assessing eye. “Steady on, boys."

She leaves, and Albus's stomach ties itself in knots. They're alone.

***

The door closes and Scorpius turns on the bed, meeting Albus's eye. He bursts into laughter for a few moments, then, with what seems like immense force of will, stops laughing and says, "So, er, do we just have sex now? Is this what we do? Just, get naked and take a little journey into penisville?"

Albus stares at him for a moment, then follows Scorpius into a laughing meltdown. "A journey into _penisville_?!" Albus breathes, heaving laughs.

"Willyville?" Scorpius muses. "Cocktown? Dickingham?"

This will be okay. It's _Scorpius_. This is what they do: they face things together. They get through things. This is far from the worst they've dealt with.

"I don't think I've ever heard you say 'cock' before," Albus says, still laughing. "It's okay," he adds, wanting to calm down Scorpius's jittery anxiety. Albus unfastens his robe and pushes it off, wanting to get out of the stifling fabric. He wants to touch Scorpius. "Can I hug you?"

Scorpius leans forward, letting Albus wrap him in a tight hug. "I should hope a hug is okay since we're about to hug horizontally with our genitals."

Albus laughs into Scorpius's shoulder, the sandalwood smell of his shampoo tickling Albus's nose. He leans into it, feeling magnetised by his needs—the sexual need of the arousal (Albus’s dick really wants him to rub himself all over Scorpius) and the emotional need for reassurance.

"Let's just pretend we're doing it for fun," Scorpius whispers.

Albus's throat constricts. "Er, what?" He has no real idea what Scorpius thinks about this whole thing. He seems to be nervous but not super bothered, and Albus doesn’t know what to think about it.

"I don't want our first time to be because of that, that—McLaggen. It's fine. Let's just, we're doing it because we want to, okay?"

"Okay," Albus says, but it's not. It's not, because he has wanted to have sex with Scorpius for ages. He's wanted more than sex. He's wanted everything.

Suddenly, and quite without warning, Scorpius's hand is on Albus's waistband, his head pressing into his shoulder.

Albus tenses, surprised, and Scorpius pulls away. "Is that," he says, "is that not okay? I thought—"

"It's fine!" Albus croaks. "Just, er, surprised me. You never tried to reach into my trousers before."

Scorpius smiles. "Well. No. I would never do that without asking, Albus."

"I guess it's okay," Albus says, trying to swallow his nervousness and arousal. "Yeah, go ahead and just like, grab my cock. Sure thing. This is totally normal."

"Don't you want to?" Scorpius asks, pulling back at Albus's nervous tone. "Because I feel like…like…I want to. This hex is very effective."

Albus’s throat clenches; it’s just the hex, it’s just the hex. For Scorpius, it’s just the hex.

"Well yeah, I want to," Albus says, and there's no doubt about that, between his normal level of lusting after orgasms in general and Scorpius in particular—he's seventeen, for fuck's sake!— _plus_ the curse magic that gave him an erection so intense he passed out in the corridor. He definitely wants to.

"It's just," Albus says, leaning in to hug Scorpius again, to avoid having to look at him while he says this and to have an excuse to touch him, "my brain still works even though my dick wants to. You know?"

"Yeah," Scorpius whispers, reaching around Albus's back and sliding his hands under Albus's shirt, touching his back, and holy toadstools, _that_ is new, Scorpius has definitely never done _that_ before, and Albus's cock gets even harder. He reaches down to press a hand against it, trying to relieve the throbbing pressure.

"It just makes me worry, a bit," Albus says, "about how we can be friends after, you know?"

"Doesn't worry me," Scorpius says, his face pressed into Albus's shoulder and lips brushing against neck, erupting goose flesh down Albus's spine. "We can deal with anything, right? I mean, what's there to worry about?"

"What if," Albus pauses, trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say, trying to think through the fog of cursed arousal, "what if you resent me because you wish you could've had your first time with someone else?"

Scorpius pulls back, nose wrinkled in the way it does when he's confused. "But—why would I resent you? There's no one else I want? If anything, I'd resent McLaggen." Scorpius unfastens his robes and pushes them off his shoulders, then crosses his arms, grabs his shirt hem, and pulls it over his head.

Albus blinks, not quite ready for the sight of Scorpius's bare chest, despite the fact that he's seen it loads of times before and they're about to actually have sex. Was he supposed to be answering a question? "My dick feels like it's going to throb straight off my body," Albus says, deciding for brutal honesty.

Scorpius, pink cheeked, laughs. "I know, right? That curse is insane. You know, this is the only time in our lives we can ever say, 'I will literally die if we don't have sex right now.'" He brings his legs up to sit cross-legged, looking so much like the first year who sat on Albus’s bed playing Exploding Snap, and Albus is struck by how incongruous this whole thing is.

Albus stares at him for a minute.

"Er," Scorpius says, pressing his hand against his erection through his trousers. "Albus, I will literally die if we don't have sex right now."

"Right!" Albus says, jumping a bit out of his stupor, when there's a loud _Pop!_ and he slams his arm into the bedpost. "Ow, what the fuck?"

"Oh, merciful Helga," Scorpius whispers, laughing, and points.

A tray has appeared on the side table with two phials, a jar, and a note. Scorpius hops up to inspect the tray, and Albus can't stop looking at the two dimples above his arse. Scorpius has such a cute arse. Scorpius waves his wand and one of the phials soars through the air to Albus.

Albus grabs it and reads: _Phoxyll's Potente Prophylactic. Take one spoonful daily._ He unscrews the cap; it smells like fish. "Ugh!" he cries. "What is that smell?"

Scorpius wafts the potion towards his nose. "Like oysters and peppermint, good grief."

Albus's eyes are drawn to Scorpius's trousers, where his erection strains the fabric. Albus looks up at the ceiling, feeling like he shouldn't be looking—which is silly, right? Is it silly? He takes a measure of potion using the easy-measure cap, then pulls his shirt off. It seems important to be at the same level of nakedness. For equality, or something.

"What's the other jar?" Albus asks.

Scorpius's cheeks turn bright red. " _Slyck: A Personal Lubricant_."

"Fucking hell," Albus says with a wince. "Does she think we don't have lube?"

" _Do_ we have lube?" Scorpius asks, eyes wide.

"Uhhhh," Albus says, mortified. "Er, well, I do. But er, in the dorm, not in my bag."

"Oh!" Scorpius says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Right, right. Cool. So." He unfastens his trousers, pushing them down and stepping out of them. It's strange, because Albus has watched Scorpius take his trousers off thousands of times. It's not new, but it is.

Scorpius exhales a big sigh and climbs onto the bed. "Can I sit on your lap?"

Albus is trying hard not to stare at Scorpius's cock, which is very, very visible through his blue boxers. "Yeah," Albus says and somehow that isn't weird. It's not weird that Scorpius is asking to sit in his lap; it's not weird to say yes. Why does looking at Scorpius feel weird when Scorpius straddling his lap and wrapping his arms around Albus's shoulders doesn't?

Scorpius hugs Albus and exhales. Albus can barely breathe; it feels so good to touch. Scorpius lets his weight fall on Albus's lap and then they both freeze. Because cock. Because hard, cursed cocks press together. "Merlin, that feels good," Scorpius whispers, and Albus needs to get out of his trousers.

"I want—my trousers off," Albus says, almost embarrassed at how his voice cracks, and Scorpius pivots so he can push Albus's torso back so Albus is lying on the bed. Scorpius's fingers find Albus's button; he unfastens Albus's trousers and pulls them off.

"Have you ever—" Scorpius asks, tugging the trousers off Albus's feet. "Have you ever done this before?" He meets Albus's eyes, his face apprehensive.

Albus snorts. "Scorp, you know I haven't."

"No," he says, nose wrinkling. "I don't know that. We don't—we don't talk about these things. You have an older brother who took you out clubbing over the summer. You have wild parties at your cousins', you have plenty of opportunities to—"

"Hey," Albus says, grabbing Scorpius's hand and pulling him back. "I've never done anything with anyone. Except that one time I kissed Cora on a dare, and you were there, and that was a shit kiss. Total shit."

Scorpius laughs. "You've never done penis stuff?"

Scorpius's nerves give Albus courage, and he grabs Scorpius's hips and pulls him down, flush on top. It brings their cocks in alignment and Albus closes his eyes. "Not until, er, just now. I think this counts as penis stuff."

"Sweet Circe," Scorpius says, resting his forehead on Albus's shoulder and rocking his hips. It feels _so good_. "That feels incredible," Scorpius whispers.

Albus, overcome with the feeling of it, puts his hands on Scorpius's arse, then realises he hadn't asked about that and says, "Is that okay?"

"Y—yes," Scorpius says, rolling his hips again and good _Merlin_. For a moment, Albus lets himself get lost in the feeling of it.

"Shit, stop," Albus hisses.

Scorpius stills, immediately pushing up on his arms and putting space between their bodies. "What? Was that bad—I—"

"No," Albus says reassuringly, and then with a self-deprecating smile, "Too good, actually. I don't think the curse will be satisfied if I, er, go off like an erumpent before we actually, you know."

"Oh," Scorpius says, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, my god. We're dry humping. I'm dry humping Albus Potter. And it feels so good."

"Don't laugh!" Albus says, laughing, and smacks Scorpius's arm.

"I'm not laughing at you!" Scorpius laughs. "I'm laughing at this whole thing."

"Do it again," Albus whispers, and Scorpius stops laughing.

Scorpius lowers himself down, reaches between them to adjust his cock, and rolls his hips again.

"Fuck, Scorp, that feels—"

"It definitely feels extremely good," Scorpius whispers, thrusting against Albus again.

"I feel like it shouldn't feel this good when we—when we—didn't choose it?" Albus says, but he reaches for Scorpius's arse again and it feels so good in his hands; he pulls Scorpius's hips closer and braces his feet on the bed so he can thrust back.

Scorpius moans. "Forget about that. It's you and me. I choose it now; it feels so good." He pauses. "It does for you, right?"

"Fuck yes," Albus says, and without thinking he locks his lips onto Scorpius's neck and sucks. Oh crap, maybe he shouldn’t have done that.

But Scorpius makes a pleasured noise that sparks impossibly more arousal through Albus's body. "Er, Al, maybe stop doing that. Because don't forget the danger," Scorpius breathes, "of going off like erumpents."

Albus's body thrums with contentment; he can't believe Scorpius likes this—with Albus!—so much he's in danger of coming in his pants.

"We should—" Albus says, but then he isn't sure how to finish the sentence and he ends up sort of freezing.

Scorpius pushes up on his arms and looks at Albus. "Yeah...we should. Do you—how do you want to do this?"

Scorpius is beautiful. His cheeks are red and his eyes are silvery blue. His chest is flushed and his neck has a faint red spot where Albus just sucked it. He's also Albus's favourite person in the world, and has been for years. Albus's chest feels in danger of cracking open with the force of the love and affection he feels.

"I don't know," Albus says. "What do you want?"

Albus wonders if Scorpius can tell, from the look on Albus's face, that he's thought about this a lot. So much. As soon as Albus realised he was gay. Or, well, when he was _wondering_ if he was gay, he would try to imagine different things, to gauge his reaction. Like, fucking Polly Chapman? Cora sucking his dick? Not _bad_ images, but didn't really get him going. But fucking Scorpius? Scorpius's body melting under the force of pleasure Albus gives him? Scorpius fucking him? Scorpius on top of him, Scorpius inside him? Scorpius's mouth on his cock? His mouth on Scorpius's cock? It was clear. It was clear he was gay. Gay, gay, gay. No doubt about that.

Albus hasn't had an orgasm in ages without a fantasy of doing things— _any_ of those things—with Scorpius.

But he doesn't care what. They all turn him on. It's not like he only thinks about fucking Scorpius or about Scorpius fucking him. And he needs to stop thinking about either option right now because of the erumpent thing.

"I mean," Scorpius says, "we need to have anal sex. Because otherwise it's uncertain whether it will break the curse. Which is really a mark of how phallocentric our society is, and people's lack of sexual imagination and inability to think outside the centrality of penetration."

"Er, Scorp," Albus says, trying not to pass out at the fact that Scorpius just said the words _anal sex,_ "are you upset that this curse—which is a curse of sexual assault—isn't sexually imaginative enough?"

Scorpius frowns. "I mean, yeah. Or like, the person who made it is a bad person on more than one count, is all."

"Yeah, you're right," Albus says, impulsively reaching towards Scorpius's pants, his hand stopping inches from Scorpius's cock. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes," Scorpius whispers, and Albus reaches for his dick, completely unsure what to do—is he meant to grab it? Which is how Albus ends up poking Scorpius's penis with one finger.

"Um," Scorpius says.

"Can I grab it?" Albus clarifies.

"Yeeeess," Scorpius says, and Albus wraps his fist tightly around Scorpius's cock.

Albus sucks in a breath when he feels it twitch and harden in his hand.

"You can," Scorpius says, head falling forward, "you can do anything to my cock. I'm giving you blanket permission. Merlin's peonies."

Albus releases his grip and shoves his hand down the top of Scorpius's pants, wanting nothing more than to touch that penis without any fabric in the way. "Pants. Pants off."

"Yes," Scorpius says with a moan, rising up on his knees to push his pants off. "You too."

Albus swallows as Scorpius's cock springs into view. He's never seen it erect, before.

Scorpius kicks off his boxers. "You too!"

Albus tears his eyes away from Scorpius's penis and pushes his pants off, feeling clumsy and awkward as he does so, but Scorpius is looking at him with a smouldering look and Albus doesn't know whose dick he wants to touch more, so he kinda reaches for both.

Scorpius huffs a laugh but it turns into a moan when Albus strokes him up and down.

"How do you want to do it?" Albus whispers, his head falling back at the influx of pleasure. At Scorpius, letting him touch, touching him back. It feels so normal, like they've picked up a new hobby, like that time they learned how to play Dungeons and Dragons, only Albus knows he shouldn't let it feel like that because _Scorpius didn't want this._ Scorpius _wanted_ to play Dungeons and Dragons. Scorpius only wants this because of the curse.

But Scorpius is leaning down, pressing his face into Albus's shoulder, bringing their bodies together, and Albus drops one hand and wraps the other around both their cocks, all anxieties pushed out of his mind.

"Feels good when you wank me," Scorpius whispers, pressing a kiss to Albus's collarbone.

Albus lets go of their cocks, brings his hands around Scorpius's back. He thinks of his N.E.W.T. Potions textbook, the first thing he can think of that's not sexy—the non-reactive herbal medicinals.

"I want you to top me, please," Scorpius says. "I trust you, and that way you can be in control."

Albus has to think, _hellebore alihotsy gentian chamomile hellebore alihotsy gentian chamomile._

"Er, are you sure?" Albus asks, leaning up on his elbows.

"Of course," Scorpius says, rolling off Albus so he's flat on his back, cock jutting up towards his belly.

Albus wants to kiss Scorpius's belly, but he doesn't, he doesn't think he should—because that's not required by this curse, is it?

He pushes up to a seated position and grabs the lube, then just sits there, lube in hand, looking at Scorpius's naked body.

"Al," Scorpius says, "it actually _hurts_ when we're not touching, can you—?"

"Yes!" Albus says, bounding forward. "Er. Do you want to use any charms? Like there's a cleaning charm."

Scorpius shrugs. "Sure, go ahead."

Albus has studied these charms from magazines, he's done them on himself once or twice, for practice, but he's never used them in a high-stakes situation like this. He takes a breath and casts, reaching to touch Scorpius's thigh as his magic enters Scorpius's body.

Albus holds out the lube. "Do you want to?—we need to, er. Fingers first, then cock."

"Will you do it?" Scorpius asks, bringing his knees up and stroking his cock, and Albus has never seen anything so erotic in his life. Ever. Not once. It's even better than his fantasies about Scorpius doing this exact thing.

"Sure," Albus breathes, kneeling forward on the bed and dipping his fingers in the lube. "Have you ever—? On yourself?"

"No," Scorpius says. "I'm ready, go ahead." He closes his eyes, still stroking his cock, pink tip sliding out the top of his fist.

Albus presses a finger inside. It's _warm_ , and tight, and Albus can't take his eyes of Scorpius—he doesn't know where to look, at where his finger disappears inside Scorpius's body, at Scorpius's cock and hand. He settles on Scorpius's face, where his eyes are closed, a brief look of pain followed by a happy, aroused face that makes Albus squirm with desire. "Is that okay?"

"It's—weird, but— _yes,_ Al, it's—nghhh."

"I'm going to put another finger in, okay?"

Scorpius nods, letting go of his cock for a moment and Albus can see that it's really hard, his balls are drawn up, and Albus wonders if Scorpius is worried about the erumpent contingency. Scorpius bites his bottom lip, and Albus presses a second finger inside.

"Is that okay?"

"I'll tell you if it's not, Al, I promise," Scorpius says, head falling to the side, and Albus blinks, surprised that Scorpius intuited Albus was worried he'd cause pain, that he needed to hear that Scorpius would speak up if need be. "It's good, I swear—" then Scorpius's body jumps away a bit, and Albus grabs his hip with his left hand.

"What—?"

"Do that again," Scorpius whispers, eyes open and staring at Albus now.

Albus swallows and presses his fingers in again, hooking them up so that—Scorpius lets out a moan, a _loud_ moan, and Albus supposes he shouldn't be surprised that this person who talks his ear off all the time, never hiding how he feels, never ashamed, would be loud in bed.

"Too good, Al, stop, I'm going to—"

"Do you want to flip over?" Albus asks, pulling his fingers out. "They say it's easier."

"No way!" Scorpius says, brushing his hair off his sweaty forehead with one hand. "We're having sex, for the first time, together, and you think I want to look at the _duvet_?!"

Albus laughs, trying not to think about whether Scorpius actually wants to look at him or if that’s just the hex, and uses his clean hand to get more lube and slick his cock. He holds the jar out to Scorpius. "You want some?"

"Don't mind if I do," Scorpius says, reaching for the jar and using it to slick himself. "Is this angle going to work?" he asks, craning his neck.

Albus grabs a pillow and gestures for Scorpius to raise his hips, shoves it under. "Bring your knees back a bit," Albus says over the sharp pain in his gut that happens when they're not touching.

Scorpius pulls his knees back, and Albus tries not to have an aneurysm. His hand shakes as he knees forward, grabbing his cock to line it up.

Scorpius whispers, "Hey, Al," and runs a hand down Albus's arm.

Albus looks up at him, hand still shaking. "What?"

"It's okay," Scorpius says, and smiles—a bright, blinding Scorpius smile that brings Albus out of his weird headspace. "I want you to," Scorpius says.

Looking at Scorpius's face, Albus presses his hips forward so cock breaches rim, watching with fascination as Scorpius closes his eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. The feeling is overwhelming—hot, wet, tight—sparkly pleasure shooting up Albus's spine and gathering in a pool deep in his gut.

"What does it feel like?" Scorpius asks as Albus tries not to thrust.

"Feels like everything my dick's ever wanted," Albus breathes with a laugh, knowing it’s everything his heart’s ever wanted, too, but not able to say that part. "What does it feel like for you?"

"Feels like when you cast magic on me," Scorpius says, starting to stroke his cock. "You can move. Please move."

Albus draws his hips back and presses forward, worried he'll hurt Scorpius. "Does that hurt?"

"Shhhhhhnnn—No. Feels incredible. Go as hard as you want; I'll tell you if it's too hard."

Albus's head falls forward, chin to chest, and he lets go of conscious control, letting his body take over. He feels his hips snap forward, feels Scorpius's body inch up the bed, hears the sound of his balls slapping against Scorpius's arse.

"Shit, I can't last," Albus whispers, embarrassed, but Scorpius moans, moving his hand faster over his cock, and Albus's body erupts in a haze of tingly pressure, he feels his cock pulse with come— _inside Scorpius's arse_.

Scorpius breathes, "Did you come, Al? It feels so good, I—"

Albus lunges forward, pressing his lips to Scorpius's, the first touch of their mouths sparking crackly magic between them, and Al only vaguely registers his cock sliding out of Scorpius with a squelch as he bats Scorpius's hand off his cock and starts wanking him. All he can think is, _make Scorp feel good, make Scorp feel good,_ and Scorpius lets out a keening noise as Albus feels hot liquid seep over his fist.

Holy shit.

It's over already.

A dozen different emotions vie for primacy in Albus’s brain. He pushes away his emotional reaction, the fact that he’s completely in love and continuing to pretend that isn’t the case, focusing instead on the rational side of this. He can deal with his feelings some other time. Right now he can focus on the embarrassment of having come so quickly. He can't be too embarrassed, though, because Scorpius came fast, too.

"Why are you supposed to be embarrassed when sex is so good you have an orgasm quickly?" Albus asks, still panting, and smiles.

"Are you supposed to be?" Scorpius asks, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

"It's like, if you cooked food for me that was really good, I wouldn't be embarrassed that it was good, I'd say thank you."

"Thank you," Scorpius whispers, and Albus’s heart clenches.

"How do you feel?" Albus asks, apprehensive about getting rid of the curse, trying to take stock of his body—are the pains gone?—but confused by the signals he's getting from his recent orgasm.

"I feel," Scorpius stretches his legs straight. "I feel like my knees wouldn't support my weight if I stood up. Merlin, Al, that was—"

"We just had sex," Albus blurts, like an idiot.

Scorpius grins at him. "Er, yep. Yes we did. We sure did. We were good at it, too. So good at it. Like, are we experts? Because, wow."

Albus laughs, shaking his head. "You're amazing." He snaps his mouth shut, trying not to ruin this by saying more. A niggling doubt creeps in, and he says, "This isn't going to—to change anything between us, right? I just—I need you as my friend."

Scorpius's smile falters, and for a moment Albus worries he's said something hurtful. But then Scorpius smiles, sitting up and patting Albus's shoulder. "Yeah, of course. Friends forever! Nothing can come between us! We're Albus and Scorpius! Scorpius and Albus!” They stare at each other for a moment. Albus wonders whether he should say something, but the moment passes when Scorpius says, “You want to use the shower first? We have Transfiguration homework."

"Nah, you can," Albus says, and watches numbly as Scorpius walks, naked, into the bathroom.

Albus climbs out of the bed and stands, looking around the private room in the Hospital Wing. He grabs his wand and Vanishes the come, Scourgifies the bedding. He lies down again, and the bed feels cold. There's no strange pain or compulsion.

He can't believe they just did that, and it's over, and now he has to pretend it never happened, that it meant nothing.

The curse is gone, but he's pretty sure his heart is broken.

***

In the morning, Albus wakes alone, as always, but it feels wrong. They’d gone back to Slytherin in the evening after Pomfrey checked on them, and Albus had succeeded at mostly acting like a normal person and not like a lovelorn idiot.

He shoves a pillow over his head and squeezes his eyes shut. He had sex. He had sex with Scorpius. And it was so, so good. But it was also wrong and horrible and they were victims of sexual assault. McLaggen is probably in jail. They have to decide whether to press charges, but if they do that, their families will know what happened. Everyone will think of them as victims. Which they are—McLaggen shouldn't be able to get away with using spells like that!

But also—how can you be a victim when you got to have sex with someone you've wanted for years? Albus can't be a victim. Which means—Scorpius is the victim. Albus is part of the problem, isn't he?

His heart in his throat, Albus tries to push the unhelpful thoughts away, but all he can think about is what Scorpius looked like shirtless in his lap, the look on Scorpius's face when Albus pressed inside him.

He hears Scorpius’s voice whisper, "Are you awake?"

Albus takes a deep breath and reaches to pull open his bed hangings.

Scorpius is standing there, sleep mussed, looking worried. "Hey." He smiles.

"Hey," Albus says, leaning up on an elbow.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Albus says, holding the curtain open, and Scorpius climbs into his bed, sitting cross legged.

"Can we talk about it?" Scorpius blurts, fiddling with his pyjama pants.

Oh Merlin, oh god. Albus nods, hoping he appears more nonchalant than he feels.

"About having sex," Scorpius whispers, leaning forward. "About you and me. Having sex. Because we did….that. We did that. And I keep thinking about it. And I just want to make sure that this is, okay? Are we good? Are we fine? Are we still Albus-and-Scorpius except, you know, Albus-and-Scorpius-who-have-had-sex?"

Scorpius's nervous babbling somehow makes Albus feel better. He smiles and leans back on his hands. "Scorp. Of course we're fine. You and me will always be fine."

Scorpius pushes his hair off his face. "I can't stop thinking about it.”

"Er, I'm sorry?" Albus says, throat constricting at the idea of Scorpius dwelling on this shit situation all night long.

Scorpius frowns. "Don't apologise. I didn't mean it like a bad thing, and anyway, it's not your fault. I just mean. Yesterday I had never even touched another person," he pauses, leans forward, " _sexually_ , and now BAM! We had…anal sex."

Albus can't help but snort a laugh. Scorpius is beautiful. He's babbling and anxious but he also looks so comfortable in his pyjamas in Albus's bed—his pyjamas, which are some kind of posh matching shirt and bottoms in an all-over print that Albus wagers cost more than he's spent on clothes in the last two years.

"Yeah," Albus says, his concern for Scorpius taking precedence over his own worries. "It's barmy. Are you freaking out? I can't tell if this is like, nervous Scorpius needs to debrief after an event or nervous Scorpius on the verge of breakdown like during O.W.L.s."

Scorpius chuckles. "Did you just say _debrief?"_ He snorts, covering his mouth. "You get it, Al? De- _brief."_

"Oh my god," Albus says, laughing. "Not what I meant."

"Yeah, but I just made a pants joke," Scorpius points out with a ridiculous finger jab.

"I'm proud of you," Albus says, grinning.

"What were we saying?" Scorpius asks. "Oh right, anal sex. Anyway, it's fine. Are you fine? That's why I came over—to make sure you're fine."

"I'm fine!" Albus says, trying to make his face convincing, because Scorpius does not need to worry that Albus is upset about having had sex with him. "You're fine?"

"I'm fine," Scorpius says, nodding. "So we're—both fine?"

"Seems like we're fine," Albus says, inwardly cringing at the awkwardness. He might rather discuss prophylactics with Madam Pomfrey.

Well, no. It's not _that_ bad.

"We're the finest. No one finer," Scorpius says. "Because I'm fine, I'm going to go get dressed and then we can go eat breakfast?"

Albus smiles, feeling somehow relieved by this ridiculous conversation. It's just Scorpius. They've got through everything else together. It might be awkward, but it's not _weird._ It's Scorpius.

"Sounds good," Albus says, wishing he could stop his chest from feeling like it was going to explode with love, wishing he could concentrate instead on the awkwardness of having had sex—under duress—the night before.

It'd be simpler if he could concentrate on the sex. Problem is, the sex isn't what Albus wants. The sex has just made it more obvious than ever that what he wants is something more. Which is a boyfriend, a partner, a lover—a _person_. The sex made it harder for Albus to ignore, harder to deny that Scorpius is the exact right person. Now that Albus knows they work together like _that,_ there's nothing else left. He's known for years they work together in every other way.

But he has to watch Scorpius crawling out of the bed, like it's any other morning. Like they've just finished a game of Gobstones.

Albus climbs out after him and pointedly does not look as Scorpius pulls off his pyjama bottoms. Albus turns away and rummages in his trunk, pulling out a pair of jeans and a green and blue checkered flannel shirt. He pulls the flannel on over an old Hellebore t-shirt and turns to find Scorpius staring at him, cheeks slightly pink.

"What?" Albus asks, feeling suddenly self-conscious and worried that Scorpius is regretting what they did yesterday. Scorpius doesn’t usually look at him like that.

"Nothing," Scorpius says, grabbing his bag. "Are you ready?"

Albus nods. "Do you think everyone knows what happened?" he asks as they make their way out of the dorm.

"No idea," Scorpius says. "I know Pomfrey wouldn't tell anyone. And I don't _think_ anyone in class knew what was going on yesterday when we had to leave?"

"No, unless McLaggen's friends knew, I guess," Albus sighs. "I bet everyone knows the Aurors came for him, though. I wonder what they've told his housemates."

"I just want to pretend it never happened," Scorpius says, and Albus's chest clenches at hearing him say that. But it's understandable, of course; Albus can't blame him for feeling that way. "And now are we going to have to talk to the Aurors? They're going to make us talk about it more when I just want to pretend like, we had sex for fun."

"Can it be both?" Albus muses. "Like, it was sexual assault, but then it was just me and you and it was for fun?"

Albus doesn't want Scorpius to have to deal with this. Sure, it hurts that he wants to pretend it happened differently than it did, but then, Albus would pretend whatever Scorpius wanted. He'd pretend it never happened at all. He'd pretend he hadn't liked it, hadn't liked what the curse made them to.

Scorpius laughs. "Urm. I suppose. No one is going to make us defend how we feel about it, so as long as we're in agreement."

"Agreement," Albus says. "Sure." They walk in silence for a minute, falling into the familiar routine of being in the corridors with other students, their chatter creating a buzz in the background.

"I can't believe we're not virgins anymore," Albus whispers, looking around at their classmates walking towards the Great Hall, thinking about the last time he and Scorpius had been stupid enough to agree to a game of Truth or Dare and everyone somehow managed to make every question about virginity.

"Are we, though?" Scorpius whispers back, leaning closer. "Because it wasn't really a _choice_ and it seems to me that sex only counts as, you know, _sex_ , if it's a choice."

Albus considers this. "I dunno, the entire thing is kind of bunk. Like, why do we even separate people into categories based on whether they've had sex? It seems kinda—wrong. Sex isn't a competition. That seems like we're letting the man win."

Scorpius nods. "So we are neither virgins nor not-virgins, then."

"Agreed," Albus says, walking into the Great Hall. "Oh Merlin, what are we going to tell Rose?"

***

That night, Albus begs off their usual homework plans, saying he needs to sleep early. He shuts himself in his bed with the latest issue of _Marina Miggs: The Next Generation of Mad Muggles._ He's been saving this issue for when Scorpius is busy and Albus needs something to do. There's a love triangle between Marina, a Muggle; Hector, a Squib; and Josie, a witch; and in the last issue Josie had agreed to be in a fake relationship with Marina while they went undercover as detectives. Albus had started off team Hector, but lately he has to admit he sees the appeal of team Josie.

On the third page, Josie lights a _Lumos_ and Marina has to come up with an impromptu explanation about electrical charges and wifi devices in order to stop the Muggles from being suspicious.

But Albus can't concentrate. How exactly is he supposed to forget about what happened last night, to keep it from changing things between him and Scorpius? How is he meant to ignore that he's been in love with his best friend for _years_ and they had _sex_ and Scorpius wants to keep going as if nothing has ever happened?

Because Albus can't stop thinking about it. And it's not his fault. He's seventeen! It's his stupid fucking hormones and his stupid fucking _dick._

And his stupid brain that is controlled by his stupid dick, his stupid brain that keeps reminding Albus of what it looked like to have Scorpius in his lap, babbling and telling Albus how good it felt, pulling his shirt off and—

Albus groans and puts _Marina Miggs_ on his stack of books, then looks through the stack until he finds his N.E.W.T. Potions textbook. He opens it to the table of contents and drags his finger down the page. About two thirds of the way down the second page he finds the chapter he's looking for. _Endocrine Potions and the Magic of Glands._

He flips to page 529 and starts to skim, flipping past page after page about potions to trigger or cease ovulation, menstruation, conception, and lactation. Albus can feel himself losing focus—how many other -tions about the female body can there possible _be?_

The next page is a potion to do with orgasm, and Albus's eyes widen in anticipation before he realises that the words are a blur—censored out by Hogwarts's Protection and Restriction of Underage Dangers and Enticements policy. Bloody _figures._ He'll have to bring this book with him next time they go to Hogsmeade—P.R.U.D.E. only works on campus.

The next page has an illustration of a cock and balls, so Albus figures he must be on the right track. He just needs to find a potion that will stop his libido—

"Al!" Scorpius whispers loudly enough to wake the whole dorm.

Albus slams the book shut; his heart races wildly. The last thing he needs is Scorpius sticking his head in Albus's bed to find him looking at an illustration of a todger.

"Can I come in?"

Scorpius sounds worried. Albus sits up straight and pulls back the bed hanging. "What's wrong?"

Scorpius climbs in the bed. He's wearing the same pyjamas as this morning. "Al," he hisses, "how do we know if we actually broke the curse?"

"Huh?" Albus asks, wrinkling his nose. "What do you mean?" He checks that the bed hangings are closed; they have automatic Silencing charms built in. "We had sex!"

"But how do we know?!" Scorpius says, chewing his lip. "It's just—I—it's—it. _It_ is rather not flaccid."

Albus's eyes are drawn to Scorpius's pyjama bottoms as if magnetised, but he snaps them back to Scorpius's face. "Your—your dick?"

"Yes," Scorpius hisses. "Like you know how yesterday we were, er, felt like we had to touch each other? And got hard and—what were the other symptoms? Fast heart rate?"

"Yeah," Albus says. "But how do you know it's not just like—a regular erection? Not a magic one?" He tries to ignore the fact that his cock has been half hard for ages, hence the reason that he was looking up libido-lowering potions in the first place.

"Because," Scorpius starts, "because it's too much of a coincidence, isn't it? We get hit with the curse and then we do…what we did last night and it assuages it but now like, I want to touch you again! Look, Al, look at my penis."

"Er," Albus says, pressing his feet into the bed and scrunching back against the headboard. "I don't know that I should—"

But Scorpius doesn't pull down his pyjamas, he rises on his knees and presses his hips forward so that Albus can see the outline of his cock through the thin fabric.

Albus tries to talk but ends up making a bit of a choked _hrrmmg_ noise and coughing.

"What about you?" Scorpius says, grabbing Albus's wrist and pulling his arm off his lap. "See! Look! You're hard too! Should we call Madam Pomfrey? I know she said she wanted to check us in a few days but I—"

"We're not calling Madam Pomfrey!" Albus, who is at least half sure that his erection is run-of-the-mill and not caused by the curse, hisses. But how is he supposed to say that? _Oh hey Scorp, don't worry, I get erections thinking about you all the time, so nothing strange here!_ He'd rather die.

"But the stakes are fairly high here. Like, I don't want us to die," Scorpius says, slumping down, folding his legs to the side. "So should we do it again? Just to be sure?"

Albus starts to laugh nervously. Does Scorpius really think they may not have got rid of the curse? Is it possible that Scorpius is just naturally aroused and doesn’t realise? How is Albus meant to deal with this?! "You want to, erm, you want to, you want to have sex. Again?"

"I mean, why not?" Scorpius asks, and his face is so genuine and so open—so _Scorpius—_ Albus feels like he's melting.

He's already so far gone. What harm will it do, at this point? The damage is done. And Albus wants to, and Scorpius is saying he wants to, so…He may as well just—do it. He may as well give into his fantasies and make Scorpius feel good. Make Scorpius forget his anxieties. _Why not_ , indeed.

Albus pushes off his pillows and grabs Scorpius's wrist, turning him around and pressing him into the pillows where Albus had been sitting.

"Oh," Scorpius says, looking somewhat surprised at Albus's sudden go-get-em-ness.

"Is this okay?" Albus says, now kneeling in front of Scorpius.

"Yeah, yes, totally okay," Scorpius says. "The blanket permission I gave you yesterday still applies. Unless you're planning something out of the ordinary. You should ask first if you want to like, bite. Or use props."

" _Props?!_ " Albus blurts, laughing.

"I don't know!" Scorpius says with a smile. "You said you had lube and you knew what you were doing. I don't know anything!"

"I did _not_ know what I was doing," Albus claims, but then his brain goes fuzzy when Scorpius unbuttons his pyjama shirt and pushes it off.

"It seemed like you did," Scorpius says and shrugs.

Fuck, Albus loves him so much. How can he even cope with this? Scorpius is half naked in his bed asking to have sex, but Scorpius can't possibly feel the same way Albus does. He only wants to do it again because of anxiety about the curse. But how can Albus care about his inevitable heartbreak when Scorpius is looking at him like _that_? The only thing that matters is making Scorpius feel good.

Albus throws himself towards Scorpius's groin with a little too much enthusiasm, and ends up falling face-first into Scorpius's lap. Scorpius's hand goes to his hair immediately, raising tingles across Albus’s scalp and down his back.

"Alright?" Scorpius asks, and Albus can hear the smile in his voice even though his face is pressed into the soft material of Scorpius’s posh pyjama bottoms.

"'M good," Albus mumbles, pushing up on his arms and grabbing Scorpius's waistband. "This good?"

"Um, yes, whatever you—"

Albus pulls the waistband down past Scorpius's arse and dives in, grabbing his already-hard ( _already hard, good Merlin_ ) cock and wrapping his mouth around it.

"Holy moly," Scorpius breathes, and Albus stifles a laugh around a mouthful of cock— _Scorpius's_ cock!

Albus pulls off with a slurp, his hand still circling the base, and meets Scorpius's eyes. "I have no idea what I'm doing, so…so just…tell me if it's good or bad, okay?"

Scorpius's grey eyes are so wide, silvery intense and filled with something that looks like—like a complete lack of walls. Like Albus is looking directly into Scorpius's soul. He nods, and Albus returns to his task.

It's a little odd, because he has no idea if it feels good, but he figures it can't feel _bad_ unless he accidentally bites it or something, so he swirls his tongue around a bit to see what happens and is rewarded with Scorpius making a huff of pleasure and tensing his legs. Scorpius scratches his fingers into Albus's hair, stroking, and Albus starts to bob his head, because that's what people do, right? It's supposed to be like thrusting, he thinks, only without Scorpius actually thrusting into his throat, but meant to mimic that motion from above? Not that Albus thinks he'd particularly _mind_ if Scorpius wanted to fuck his face, but that's probably an experiment for another day…

Scorpius lets out a low moan. Albus looks up; Scorpius's head has fallen to the side. His chest and cheeks are flushed pink, his nipples pert, and _fuck_ Albus is hard. He's never seen anything as erotic as Scorpius, and Scorpius looks downright angelic compared to some of the porn he's seen. Maybe Scorpius looks so erotic precisely because of the contrast with some of that porn. Albus hollows his cheeks and _sucks_ and Scorpius's hips snap up, pushing his cock deep into Albus's throat and Albus kind of can't breathe but he also kind of feels like he might come in his pyjama bottoms.

"Sorry!" Scorpius hisses, patting Albus's head. "Sorry, I just—"

Albus shakes his head, hoping Scorpius takes the gesture for the permission it’s meant as, and tries to focus on the task at hand. The task at mouth. He tries to think about what feels good when he's wanking and reaches a hand to cup Scorpius's balls.

"Al, Albus, Al," Scorpius moans. "I'm going to come. Pull off me so I can—"

If Scorpius thinks Albus isn't planning to keep going until the come is in his mouth, he's got another think coming—Albus presses his mouth down as far as he can, until Scorpius's thatch of hair tickles his nose. Scorpius lets out a sound like he's trying to stop himself from making noise, and Albus moves his mouth and hands at the same time. With a loud exhale, Scorpius comes.

Holy shit. He made Scorpius come. _In his mouth._ Scorpius's come is _in Albus's mouth._

It tastes odd, though not exactly bad, and Albus swallows, pulling off to look at Scorpius. He's flushed splotchy red all over his chest and cheeks, and staring at Albus with wide eyes.

"Wow," Scorpius whispers. "That was—"

But before Scorpius finishes his sentence, he uses his knee to guide Albus up off his stomach and to his knees, a predatory look on his face. That look is incongruous on Scorpius’s face, and Albus can’t tell if it feels that way because it’s _Scorpius_ and unlike him, or because Albus doesn’t believe Scorpius could be looking at _him_ like that. But Scorpius pushes Albus onto his back, head at the foot of the bed, and he leans forward, pressing his nose against Albus's hard cock through his pyjama bottoms.

"We're in this together," Scorpius whispers, his nose still touching Albus's penis, "and because we're in it together, you need to experience _that_ and I really need to experience _this._ Okay?"

Albus tries to answer but only some kind of croak comes out of his mouth. His face burns with heat and embarrassment and lust. "Y—yes."

Scorpius tugs down his bottoms, and Albus can't look. It's too much, Scorpius between his legs, looking at his privates, going to put his _mouth_ there and suddenly Albus is trying to remember how long it's been since he showered because this is the first time anyone has had any reason to care about Albus's genital cleanliness.

But then Scorpius's mouth encases him in wet heat and Albus stops worrying about hygiene. Fuck hygiene, really, because holy shit. It feels incredible. His fingers fist in the duvet as Scorpius works him over, and Albus closes his eyes, unable to keep a smile off his face.

***

The next morning, Scorpius has Ancient Runes while Albus has a free period. Scorpius had fallen asleep in his bed, and Albus, freaked out and unsure what to do, pretends to be asleep when he feels Scorpius stir awake. Before Scorpius leaves the bed, Albus feels Scorpius press their bodies closer, searching for warmth probably, and when he slides out of the bed, closing the curtains behind him, Albus feels cold.

Albus's brain plays last night over and over on a loop, like he's in a really horny Pensieve. His face is red as he analyses every little thing he did. Merlin, he had—he had _thrown himself_ at Scorpius's cock. And Scorpius had pushed him backwards and climbed on top of him and pulled his pyjamas off.

Albus's face is red and he groans. He shouldn't be thinking about it; he feels like he's doing something wrong. Like, if you're _with_ someone like that, you give them permission to know, forever, what you look like naked. What you look like _orgasming._ That is supposed to be special! Or at least, chosen! Fuck, Albus should offer to let Scorpius Obliviate him. He doesn't want to have these images in his head, because they weren't given freely. Because they're torturing him—torturing him by how good it seemed, but how bad the circumstances actually were.

Albus drags himself out of bed and manages to get dressed and go down to the Great Hall. He sees Rose sitting alone at the Gryffindor table and knows when he sees her that she's the one he wants to talk to right now. She hasn't been his closest friend since before they started Hogwarts—before Albus was sorted Slytherin and met Scorpius—but she's still Rose. She's still the one who is family but with a little bit of distance, unlike James or Lily. The idea of talking about his sex life with James makes him cringe; the idea of talking about his sex life with Lily makes him want to vomit. He scans the Gryffindor table to confirm that Lily isn't there, and plops down across from Rose.

She looks up, raising her eyebrows, her mouth full of toast. "Al, hey." She winces with what looks like pain.

Albus momentarily forgets that he's in the midst of an existential crisis. "Are you okay?"

Her hand holding a piece of toast waves his concern away. "It's just cramps. What's up?"

Albus doesn't blink; his family and Rose's family have always been very open when it comes to bodies. He's heard his dad and his Aunt Hermione have deep conversations about the need to avoid body shame and taboos, that they will do better with their children. Albus thinks they take everything too seriously. "Have you tried the Cassia Zingiber Potion?"

Rose narrows her eyes. "Why do you know about period potions, Albus?" Her mouth falls into an O shape. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What?" Albus hisses. "No! I was just looking through the chapter on—nevermind. No, I don't have a girlfriend."

"I thought you were banging Scorpius or whatever." She takes another bite of toast.

This conversation has got entirely out of hand. Albus frowns, trying to figure out how to bring it back. He's about to say he isn't banging Scorpius when he realises it would be a lie, and he hasn't been able to get a lie past Rose since they were three. He still doesn't know how she figured out he had stolen biscuits in his pocket. "Scorp and I are not together."

"Yeah, okay," she says. He doesn’t think she believes him.

"I was reading a news article and I didn't understand something," Albus says, grasping for a way to have this discussion in the abstract. "I thought you'd be able to explain."

Rose puts her toast down, folds her hands in front of her plate. Her full attention is on him now.

He smiles. "Er, it was about sexual assault. Like, how to be sure that what you're doing isn't assault? It seems kinda confusing. Because like—what about certain potions. Or alcohol, right?"

"It's not confusing," she says primly. "You can't give consent if you are under the influence of a potion or other mind-altering substance, or magic. A person who is Imperiused, for example, has no free will and therefore cannot give consent, so any sexual activity with an Imperiused person is, by definition, rape."

 _Rape._ Albus can hear his heartbeat pounding against his ear drums.

"But—" He doesn't even have a thought of how he will finish that sentence.

Rose cuts him off with a raised hand. "No _buts_ , Albus. Unless you want me to hex your balls off."

"No!" he says, "I just meant—." He sighs. "What I meant is, what if you were under a potion that would kill you if you didn't have sex? How would that be different from Imperius?"

Rose's mouth twists, considering. "It would depend, I guess. I mean, if you got to choose how and with whom to have sex it seems like that's not as bad, but it's still sexual assault and like, do we really need to rank how bad different kinds of sexual assault are?" She frowns. "That seems like a good way to make excuses for rapists."

Albus stares at her.

"Are you okay?" she asks, leaning forward. "You're not sick, are you? We're having cake for Hugo tomorrow, for his birthday. You're coming, right?"

"Yeah, of course," Albus says. "I'm fine."

She stands up, gathering her books into her bag, and waves as she leaves him alone at the Gryffindor table. Her plate disappears as she walks away.

It's suddenly clear to him. Albus and Scorpius had both been hit with an illegal curse. But Albus had wanted to have sex with Scorpius even before the curse affected his desires, and Scorpius had not wanted to have sex with Albus. So Albus is in the wrong. It is _not okay,_ not even a little bit. Albus can't believe he let them do it a second time last night! It's not real. It's not real sex like people have in real relationships, because it wasn't a choice, and because Scorpius didn't know that Albus is in love with him, the entire thing is built on illegal curses and lies. Or, if not lies, deception. Albus feels as bad as if he'd set the curse on Scorpius himself.

He pushes away the empty plate in front of him.

***

Albus avoids Scorpius for the rest of the day, which feels wrong. It's also difficult, because Albus has no experience trying to avoid his best friend. His entire time at Hogwarts has been spent trying to be _with_ Scorpius as much as possible, so Albus feels off all day.

That night, he finally exhales when he gets Scorpius to stop talking long enough to say that he's tired and wants to go to bed. Scorpius gives him an odd look, but nods, and Albus shuts the curtains on his bed, happy to finally be alone. He casts a Meditation Charm at himself and sits in silence for awhile, then manages to fall asleep.

Some point later he wakes up to a hissing noise, and opens his eyes. Scorpius's head is in the opening of Albus’s bed hangings. "Albus!" he whispers. "Can I come in?"

Albus nods, partially because he's half asleep and partially because he always says yes to Scorpius.

Scorpius climbs in, closing the bed hangings behind him, and starts unbuttoning his pyjama top.

Albus jolts awake, pushing himself up to a seated position and says, "Stop!"

Scorpius's hands still immediately, but he looks up at Albus with wide, confused eyes. "What—why not? Is something wrong? Are you mad at me? I know you were avoiding me today but I figured you were just unsure how to act since we had sex."

Scorpius is babbling and Albus's heart twists with pain.

"I just," Albus starts, not knowing how to explain in a way that Scorpius will understand. "I didn't want it to be like that, you know?"

Scorpius sits back on his ankles, deflated. "Oh."

"This," Albus says, pointing between them, "this isn't what I want. And I can't keep doing it because of that." Albus can't be _fuckbuddies_ with Scorpius, especially after the way that it started; the idea is preposterous! "It's not fair to you. It's not fair to me either."

"I don't understand," Scorpius says, pushing his hair behind his ear. "I thought it was good."

"It _was_ good," Albus reassures. "I just—I want it to mean something, you know?"

A stretch of silence lasts a beat too long. "Right," Scorpius finally blurts, "of course." His casual words don't match the redness in his eyes. "I'm for bed."

"Wait—" Albus says, but Scorpius is gone.

***

Albus dreams of Scorpius topping him. Naked, smiling, laughing Scorpius, who is somehow sexy even while just being his normal self, asks if it's okay before lining his cock up and pressing inside, just like Albus had done to him the other day.

Albus wakes annoyed and full of shame.

At least Albus knows he did the right thing by stopping Scorpius the night before. At least he knows he's no longer taking advantage. Rose's ugly words don't apply anymore. No, the _words_ aren't ugly—what the words describe is ugly, and Albus has stopped it.

Scorpius is quiet on their walk to breakfast. They listen to Flora Zabini's conversation with Matty Thomas-Finnigan about the Apparition exam. Albus pretends not to notice the way Scorpius tries to catch his eye.

 _This is torture,_ Albus thinks. How is he going to deal with this? The stupid chapter on _Endocrine Potions and the Magic of Glands_ didn't have any useful potion to suppress libido. There was one potion for lowering sex drive, but the book specifically states that it doesn't work on wizards and witches under the age of 25.

Mercifully, Albus forgets about his problems with Scorpius during breakfast, thanks to Yann starting a discussion about Martina Miggs (Yann is a diehard Martina/Josie shipper). He lets himself get lost in the discussion, and even launches into a diatribe about the injustice of the treatment of Martina's brother Malcolm. Scorpius chimes in, too, and Albus finds himself staring, wanting to hear every word Scorpius has to say, shushing other people who try to cut into the conversation.

Sitting there, Albus's chest feels tight, weighed down with love, and he realises that a libido-decreasing potion wouldn't help, even if he could find one. Because the problem is not libido. The problem is that Albus is head-over-heels for his best friend. The problem is that Albus is so far gone he wants to listen to Scorpius prattle on about comic books every minute of every day, and he wants to listen to the music Scorpius likes even though it's too pop for his taste. It wouldn't help because Albus has spent the last six years talking about Scorpius too much when he's with his family, no matter that James and Lily tease him about it and that his parents give each other _looks_ when he mentions Scorpius for the third time in one dinner.

It's not about libido at all, which makes it complicated, because Albus _is_ fixated on the fact that they had sex, and he _does_ want to do it again (and again and again), but the scope is so much bigger than that. Scorpius is his _person,_ and Albus had sex with him, and it should've been so many things—it should've been about Scorpius wanting to be with him, but instead it was about necessity. It was about not dying. Albus feels like this important thing has been stolen from him.

His eyes prickle as he hears Scorpius say, "Al, come on! We've got DADA."

Albus blinks, pushing the tears away.

"Are you okay?" Scorpius asks, leaning down with concern on his face, and Albus waves him off, as if it's nothing, and lets Scorpius lead him out of the Great Hall, to the Serpentine Corridor, and to their customary spot in the back of the classroom.

"What's wrong?" Scorpius whispers, pulling out his books.

Albus can't meet his eyes.

Scorpius's hand falls on his forearm. "Albus, seriously. What's wrong? How can I help?"

"I'm fine, really," Albus says, trying to smile. He can't remember the last time he lied to Scorpius; is it the first time?

Professor Chang sweeps into the room and claps her hands. "Seventh years! We're practicing our Occlumency again today, since so many of you had trouble incorporating it into your duelling. You know what to do, break into your groups, and work on your shields before you start. Have a plan for what you'll do when your partner enters your mind."

"Oh good," Scorpius says, absently twirling his wand like a baton. "We've been meaning to practice more and keep forgetting."

Albus groans.

"You try me first," Scorpius offers. Scorpius is great at Occlumency. He's great at most things, and his dad has been teaching him Occlumency for years. Scorpius always laughs about it and says that apparently if a skill keeps you alive during a war, you tend to value it and teach it to your offspring. Albus can relate, seeing as he's known how to cast a Patronus since he was twelve. "You never know," Harry says, and Scorpius says Draco says the same about Occlumency.

"Alright," Albus says, trying to act like everything is normal. He pulls his wand, then pauses. "Tell me when you're ready."

Scorpius closes his eyes; his pale eyelashes rest on his cheeks. Albus stares, unable to help himself from remembering how Scorpius's eyes had fluttered closed when they were having sex. When they—

"Okay, I'm ready when you are," Scorpius says, eyes still closed but a smile on his mouth.

Albus wants to kiss him. It feels like an ache in his gut. But he ignores it, takes a breath, and whispers, " _Legilimens._ "

The magic works; Albus can sense Scorpius's mind. Being in Scorpius's mind feels like being surrounded by warm honey. It feels like sunshine and sweetness and laughter. The same way having sex with him felt, Albus realises, then forces himself to ignore that thought and try to invade Scorpius's mind.

Albus pushes more magic into his spell and reaches out for a thought. He smiles at what he knew would be going on inside Scorpius's brain: Scorpius's mental voice singing, the lyrics acting as a focus point that is surprisingly disorienting for a Legilimens. Professor Chang said she's never seen someone use music as a shield before, but she was pleased with Scorpius's ingenuity.

_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?_  
_Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality_  
_Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see_  
_I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy_  
_Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low_  
_Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me_

Albus frowns, trying to focus on his task and to not get distracted by Scorpius's increasingly dramatic mental singing. Scorpius finds it easy to concentrate on the next lyric in a song in a way that makes for a seamless transition from one word to the next, leaving no chinks for Albus to sneak through. Inattention would let other thoughts slip in, but Scorpius has no trouble keeping his attention on the lyrics.

The first time they'd practiced this, Scorpius explained that he usually sings Bohemian Rhapsody because his dad had complained about how overplayed it was and Scorpius thought it might annoy his father, giving him an advantage, when they practiced Occlumency. Turns out, Draco can't get the song out of his head for days once he hears it, and he eventually gave up on performing Legilimency on his son because of it.

Albus waits for the end of a line and pushes his magical energy farther into Scorpius's brain, trying to focus on one of the other thoughts swirling indistinctly behind the lyrics ( _Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time_ ).

The mind is a strange thing. The thoughts that swirl around are often one of three types: worries, things that need doing, and replays of embarrassing events. This is one of the reasons that Legilimency is so dangerous: the thoughts that are easily accessible are also some of the most potentially damaging—a mind invader can readily find a person's fears and shame.

The first thought Albus manages to snag long enough to see it is an image of Professor Vector saying, "Make sure that your essay is written in white ink on black parchment." Albus lets the thought go. ( _I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me_.)

Albus exhales, trying to work his way past Scorpius's musical defences, and reaches his magic for another thought. Albus tenses when he realises what it is: it's him. It's a vision of him in bed, with his hand out in a pushing-away motion, saying, "I didn't want it to be like that, you know?"

Scorpius's singing falters ( _Beelzebub has a devil put aside_ —). Albus pulls out of his mind, dropping the spell, and Scorpius opens his eyes. For a moment they stare at each other.

Albus can feel every heartbeat pound in his chest. He has no idea why he just saw that. Why is Scorpius thinking about that? Does he feel embarrassed about it? "Scorp, I—"

"No, no, it's fine!" Scorpius says, laughing nervously. "We don't need to talk about it. You said nothing changes between us, so it's fine! Your turn?"

Albus feels his mouth gape open. How can he let Scorpius into his mind right now? He's done it dozens of times before, and he always worried Scorpius would figure out his secret. But now, if Scorpius goes into Albus's brain, he's going to reach for a thought and see himself naked, reach for another thought and see himself sucking cock, reach for another thought and see Albus pressing his cock inside him.

Albus stands, abruptly, and Scorpius's face loses its strained smile, becoming just—worried.

"I feel sick," Albus says. "I have to go to the Hospital Wing."

"Do you…" Scorpius says, "do you want me to come with you?" Something about the look on his face tells Albus that Scorpius knows he will say no. It's strange, because Albus has never said no to Scorpius's company. Not before all of this.

"No, I'm fine, I'll just tell Professor Chang," Albus says, grabbing his bag and turning away from his best friend.

He flees.

***

Albus doesn't know where to go. He's not going to the Hospital Wing; there's nothing to diagnose. Heartbreak? Is that something medical professionals can see? He wants his parents, but he doesn't want to tell them what's wrong; he just wants to be around them. He wants his mom to make tea and his dad to try inexpertly to _talk about it_ and in the end they wouldn't say anything, but he'd feel better.

The closest thing he has at Hogwarts is Lily, so he walks towards the Gryffindor common room, and waits outside the door until someone goes to walk through. "Hey, can you see if Lily Potter's in there?"

"Sure," they say, and Albus leans against the wall, waiting.

A minute later the portrait swings halfway open and Lily's hand flies out, gesturing him inside. She doesn't even stick her head through. Albus snorts and climbs inside.

"What?" she asks. Her hair is rainbow coloured, her natural red showing at the roots but then a cascade of purple, blue, green, pink. She's got glitter on her eyes, and Albus has to laugh at how she's managed to work her style in around the Hogwarts dress code.

"Just wanted to see you," Albus says.

She raises an eyebrow; Albus has never once come to Gryffindor "just to see her." "Alright," she says. "Come up to my room, I'm trying to finish an assignment."

He follows her to her room, glad that the old restrictions against boys going in the girls’ dorm have been dismantled since his parents’ time at Hogwarts, and plops on her bed when she sits at her desk. The bed smells like Lily—almost like home. He breathes in, searching for some sense of normality and comfort.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asks, pulling two chocolate frogs from her desk and tossing one at Albus. It lands on his stomach.

"Nope," Albus says, opening the package carefully like his dad taught him when he was small, grabbing it behind its front leg joints and watching as its legs make hopping motions in the air around Albus's grip.

"Can you help me with Potions, then?"

"Lils, you know you're way better than me at Potions."

She frowns. "Yeah, you're right. Forget I asked." She picks up her quill and starts writing. After a moment she spins around. "Have you just realised you're gay?"

"Fuck you," Albus says, smiling. "And no, I realised that awhile ago."

"Nice of you to tell us," she says, pointing the quill at him. "We thought we weren't allowed to bring it up."

"Oh come on," Albus says. "My coming out isn't about you."

"No, but you are difficult to be around," she says. "We're always trying to figure out what we're allowed to talk about that won't throw you into a strop."

"Lily, shut up."

"Fine," she says with a dramatic eye roll, and turns back to her work.

Albus leans on a sequined pillow, closes his eyes, and breathes.

***

"Wake up, loser, we're celebrating Hugo's birthday at dinner tonight."

Albus blinks, wonders why everything is red and sparkly. Lily's room. He fell asleep. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Twelve inches of Potions essay."

Albus snorts and sits up, stretching.

"Have you not been sleeping well?" Lily asks, hand on her hip and reminding Albus of their mum.

Albus shrugs. “I’m fine.” He stands and follows her out of her room as they make their way to the Great Hall.

"I heard you and Scorpius got hit with an illegal hex in DADA," she says as they walk through the Gryffindor common room. "What did it do? Did you have to stay overnight in the Hospital Wing?"

"Nah," Albus says. He doesn't know what he should say the hex did—he doesn't want to tell her the truth, she's his little sister, for fuck's sake! "It, uh, tickled my dick." He winces, wishing he'd come up with some better lie. He's shit at lying.

Lily wrinkles her face in disgust, predictably, like she does every time her brothers talk about their penises. "Yeah okay, I'm going to change the subject. Did I tell you about the letter I got from James last week?"

Albus listens vaguely to Lily prattling on about James and what his Quidditch team is up to. Albus hates Quidditch and, as much as he loves his brother, he hates that James's career forces him to listen to discussions about jocks and sports and teams and whatever else. So he falls into a haze, saying an appropriate "wow" or "that's great" when he needs to, but mostly ignoring the news of their brother.

He's nervous about seeing Scorpius again, now that he's out of the protection of Lily's room. He realises he was hiding, but he can't even feel bad about it. He needed a chance to calm down, to think, to figure out how he's going to go on as if nothing has happened. Even though he saw himself in Scorpius’s mind, rejecting him. Even though Scorpius's _mouth_ has been _on his dick._ He walks into a suit of armour, clanks and clangs reverberating through the corridor as Lily stops to look at him.

"The fuck is up with you, Al?"

"Nothing!" he says.

She sighs, and Albus knows she doesn't believe him, but she drops it.

Albus smiles, overcome with affection for her, and throws his arm around her shoulder. He doesn't say anything, but they walk like that until they get to the Great Hall. Albus drops his arm as they walk in, heading towards the Hufflepuff table for the Weasley cousin birthday tradition. Albus's eyes flit to the Slytherin table, looking for Scorpius, worried about what had happened earlier, but Scorp isn't there yet.

Rose is at the Hufflepuff table next to Hugo and waves them over. Lily grabs Albus's hand and tugs him away from staring at where Scorpius should be, finding them a spot across from Rose, next to Louis and Roxanne.

"Where's Scorpius?" Rose demands with confusion and Albus shrugs.

"Not here yet, I was with Lily."

Rose frowns at him, and Albus is worried she is going to somehow figure it all out right now, but she's distracted by the appearance of Lysander and Lorcan, whom she ushers to seats by Hugo. "We just need Scorpius," Rose mutters, and Albus's chest is tight—they expect Scorpius to be there. They expect it because of Albus, because Scorpius has been folded into their family by virtue of his relationship with Albus.

"Scorpius!" Rose shouts suddenly, standing up and waving her arm wildly to get Scorpius's attention.

Scorpius, who has just entered the hall, turns towards the commotion and smiles. He makes eye contact with Albus, and something in his eyes suggests he's waiting for Albus to invite him, so Albus hastens to nod and gesture him over. Whatever else has happened, there's no doubt that Albus wants Scorpius there. The right place for Scorpius is next to Albus.

Scorpius approaches the bench behind Albus and says, "Hey everyone! Happy birthday, Hugo!"

Albus scoots to the side to make room for Scorpius and he sits.

"Are you feeling better?" Scorpius asks, anxious eyes meeting Albus's. "I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I—"

"No, you didn't!" Albus says. "I'm fine."

Fuck, he keeps saying _I'm fine_ even though he's not. He wants to never say the words _I'm fine_ ever again.

Rose whistles to get everyone's attention. "Today is the day we celebrate the birth of one of the most annoying little brothers in all of recorded history."

Hugo rolls his eyes, smiling, as Rose launches into an impassioned speech. But all Albus can think about is that his thigh is pressing against Scorpius's and that he really wishes they weren't here, that they were alone, that there weren't any robes or trousers in the way. Because he knows what that thigh feels like on his, how their bodies—

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Albus looks down at his lap, trying to stay focused on his cousin's birthday.

Scorpius leans his head into Albus's space and whispers, "Can we talk about it? Am I doing a bad job at pretending it never happened? Because it kills me that things are weird. Things seem weird, right? It's not just me?"

Albus turns to meet his eyes. "You're not doing a bad job. It's me. I'm the one who—" Albus clamps his mouth shut.

"See—that!" Scorpius whispers, eyes slightly manic. "You never stop yourself from saying things to me! Why are you now?"

Rose says, "And so, as we celebrate his sixteenth year around the sun, we will all join voices to rejoice, for he is on this earth to annoy us like only a little brother could."

Louis laughs loudly and starts the singing. "We wish you a happy birthday! A magical and auspicious birthday!"

Albus joins in, eager for an excuse not to answer Scorpius. He doesn't know what to say.

"We wish you a long, long life!"

Hugo stands up and blows out the fire Rose Conjured, then turns to his sister to hug her. They're the same height now, Albus notices. Hugo shouts, "I love you, too, Rosie!"

They all start to eat, and Lorcan, who has always been chums with Scorpius, says, "Scorpius! I haven't seen you in awhile! What's new?"

Scorpius starts to laugh nervously, just a tiny bit unhinged, and Albus can tell what's about to happen half a second before Scorpius starts talking.

"What's new?" Scorpius says, still tittering. Lorcan frowns, a few others stop eating to watch. Scorpius is usually good for a babbling rant about something or other. "What's new is I had sex."

The table falls completely silent.

"I had sex," Scorpius repeats. "With Albus. Albus and I had sex." He pauses. " _With each other._ "

Albus's face flushes so hot he doesn't understand how his skin is still intact. "I—" he starts, but Scorpius cuts him off.

"And Albus won't talk to me about it! And I keep trying! And he won't talk! And I don't know what I should do! Because what do you do when you have sex and realise you're in love but you can't talk about it with the person in question because they asked you to pretend it never happened and you can't talk about it to your best friend because it's the same person!"

The group of cousins stare in shock, looking between the two of them.

Lily opens her mouth to speak and Albus realises he can't deal with hearing what Lily has to say right now. He grabs Scorpius's hand and stands, tugging Scorpius over the bench and away from the table, out of the Great Hall.

"I'm sorry, Al, I shouldn't have—"

Albus's ears ring as he shakes his head and pulls Scorpius down the stairs towards the dungeons, through the Slytherin common room, and into their empty dorm. When they're inside, Albus turns to Scorpius, heart in his throat, and says, "What did you say in there?"

Scorpius's face crumples in misery. "I'm so sorry, Al. Can you forgive me for saying that to all of your cousins? And, ugh, to your sister!"

"What?" Albus asks, distracted. "No, forget about that. You said—you said you love me."

Scorpius's eyes widen. "Good grief, I just keep making this worse and worse. It's okay. Al, I promise it doesn't have to change anything. I know you were worried that things would change and I promise, I promise I can make sure that we can still be friends. I am so sorry."

Albus bursts out laughing.

"What?" Scorpius asks, concerned. "It's not funny."

Albus bounds forward, wrapping Scorpius in his arms and pressing their lips together. They've only kissed once while fooling around so far, and it's as electric as that first kiss had been. Albus loves the way he can smell and taste Scorpius from this close, the way they share the same air, the way their bodies melt together.

Scorpius pulls away, eyes searching Albus's face. "What is happening?"

"I love you, too," Albus says, and Scorpius's face goes full of awe. "I have to tell you something, though. I've been beating myself up, because. Well, because I _wanted_ to have sex with you."

Scorpius wrinkles his nose. "Huh? Obviously; we were cursed. I wanted to have sex with you, too."

"No," Albus clarifies. "I'd wanted to _before_ that. So I feel like I took advantage of you or something."

"What? No way!" Scorpius cries. "The only person who took advantage of anyone was McLaggen, and I don't want to think about that arsehole. You didn't take advantage of me!"

"I did, though," Albus despairs. "Because I had been wanting to have sex with you for years and then suddenly I was able to and you couldn't say no, and you didn’t know I felt that way."

"Wait," Scorpius says. "For years?"

"Er," Albus replies, scrubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "Yeah. Kinda. I mean, yeah, intensely."

Scorpius stares at him for a long moment.

"Have you wanted me," Albus asks, chest still tight, "for years, too?"

"I mean, no?" Scorpius says, and Albus's stomach drops, a cold feeling seeping down his chest. "But yes. I was just…I was so content with how things were with us, it didn't occur to me to want more, I think? Is that stupid? I feel like something's wrong with me that I didn't realise how I felt. I just knew I was happy spending all our time together and as long as that continued, I was happy."

Albus stares at him, mesmerised by the way his eyes show every emotion as he talks.

"And then we had sex and I—it was like." Scorpius pauses. "It was like I realised that I'd wanted you all along. Because we were definitely idiots for not doing that already."

Albus huffs a surprised laugh.

"I'm serious, Al, sex is amazing and I can't understand why we didn't do it until now."

"Er," Albus says. "Yes? I agree. We should do it again."

"Yes. But then you said you didn’t want it to be like it was with us, so I thought you didn’t want me.”

Albus groans. “I only meant that I didn’t want to be fuck buddies.”

“But we’re not fuck buddies. I mean, what I’m asking is, are we a couple?" Scorpius blurts. "I mean, in the interest of never having a miscommunication ever again, I figure it's better to just ask. I want to. Be a couple, I mean. I want to be whatever you'll let us be."

"We're a couple," Albus says, smiling, and he feels so daft and soppy but he also doesn't care because his body has that sunshine honey feeling that he only feels around Scorpius and he can't be arsed to care about anything else.

"Good," Scorpius says, stepping forward and cupping Albus's cheek with his hand. "I was going crazy these last couple days."

"Me too," Albus whispers, leaning forward to press their lips together, gently at first, and then more insistent, more tongue, more wet, more heat. Albus pulls back. "The second night. With the–the—the blowjobs. We weren't under the influence of the curse. You realise that, right?"

Scorpius nods, smiling. "I realised after that. The way I felt—was not the way the curse made my body feel. I want to do that again, by the way."

Albus can feel his cheeks redden. "Yeah? I want to do all of it again."

"Can I top you next?" Scorpius asks, like they're discussing who will prepare which section of notes for exam revision. "We didn't get to do that yet."

Albus blinks, overcome with affection. He knows people always underestimate Scorpius—that they think because he's so genuine, so enthusiastic, so open, he must be stupid, or a prude, or touched, somehow. People never expect him to be funny or sarcastic, and they certainly wouldn't expect him to stand here and calmly announce he wants to fuck Albus. Albus isn't surprised—Scorpius is like this about everything.

"Yes," Albus says, trying to stop his hands from shaking. Why are his hands shaking? "Yes. Whatever you want, yes."

"Can we do it now?" Scorpius asks, reaching forward and grabbing Albus's hips, his fingers pressing into the fleshy part above the hip bones.

Albus feels Scorpius's fingers like fire, lust pools in his gut, but it doesn't feel like when they were cursed. That felt like—like a medical problem, like _something is wrong_. This is the opposite—it's everything right.

Scorpius presses his lips to Albus's neck, kisses, then whispers, "I missed you these last couple of days. It was—it felt quite shit that we weren't talking about it."

Guilt washes over Albus. "Oh fuck, I'm so sorry Scorp. I was so worried about losing you. I wasn't trying to—"

"I know," Scorpius says into Albus’s neck, latching his lips and _sucking,_ and oh Merlin the way that feels. "It's okay, Al, I'm not mad. I can't believe we were both staying silent because we thought the other one wanted things to stay the same."

"We're idiots," Albus says, slipping his hands under the hem of Scorpius's shirt and relishing the feel of his hands on the expanse of skin. "God, I think I'm losing my mind, because touching your skin makes me feel…something."

Scorpius snorts in Albus's neck. "Yeah, I'd be happy to just touch you all the time." He goes back to licking up the side of Albus's neck, coming up to his ear and sucking the earlobe in his mouth.

"Fuck," Albus murmurs, "come here." He reaches for Scorpius's chin, pulling his face up. For a second, Albus just stares into the silvery blue eyes, then he breaks into a smile. Scorpius smiles back, then rubs his hands up and down Albus's back. Something in Albus snaps, and he presses forward to devour Scorpius's mouth. Scorpius makes a _oomph_ of surprise before kissing Albus back.

It occurs to Albus then that he has been holding himself back. All the past times, he was doing it, he was kissing, but he wasn't putting his love into it. Because he felt like he wasn't allowed to, like it would be wrong. But now, Scorpius _loves him_ and _they are a couple_ and when he looks into those eyes all he sees is a person who wants anything Albus wants to give.

It's an incredible feeling. He can do whatever he wants with the knowledge that Scorpius will be receptive. He doesn't have to worry, or be self-conscious, or pretend to be anything that he's not. Because it's Scorpius.

Albus reaches shaking fingers for his wand and casts an Unbuttoning Charm at Scorpius's shirt, pushes it over and off Scorpius's arms, kissing him all the while, then walking him backward until the backs of his knees hit Albus's bed.

Scorpius flops down, looks up at Albus and grins, reaching for Albus’s shirt hem and tugging it up. Albus pulls it the rest of the way over his head and, pushing Scorpius back, lies on top of him, immediately kissing him again with all he has, all his love and arousal and haze of pleasure driving his actions.

Scorpius pulls his head away, grinning madly, hands on Albus's arse, and says, "I knew you'd be like this. You're so—intense about things you love."

"Is that bad?" Albus asks, corners of his lips twitching up.

"Noooo," Scorpius drawls, pressing his hips up to press his erection into Albus's hip crease. "Nothing bad happening here."

Albus laughs, thrusting his hips to meet Scorpius's, groaning when their cocks rub against each other.

"Trousers," Scorpius breathes into Albus's ear. "Trousers off, s'il vous plaît."

Albus and Scorpius are always saying random things to each other in different languages, laughing at how bad they are at it and trying to make up things to say in response. Normally Albus would try to answer in Spanish or German or Latin (all extremely poorly), but right now he only has brain power for pushing up to his knees and clumsily pulling off his trousers and pants while Scorpius does the same.

"Do the charms, Al." Scorpius yanks off a pair of blue boxers from where they got stuck on his foot.

Albus grabs his wand, points at himself, and performs the charms. He leans to open the drawer, pulling out the lube and, not even really thinking of what he looks like or whether he should be embarrassed, takes a good amount and reaches behind to finger himself open.

"Holy Merlin and Circe," Scorpius whispers, and Albus meets his eyes, surprised to see the flushed cheeks and dark eyes and something like lusty reverence in his eyes.

"What?"

"You look—" Scorpius presses his lips together, shakes his head. "Let's just say I think I know what I'll be thinking about next time I want to increase my arousal."

Albus laughs. "Oh my god, really? It can't actually look that good." He moves his fingers for a second, figures that's probably enough.

Then Scorpius is up on his knees, hands on Albus's chest, dragging them down over nipples and belly button. "You _do_ look that good. You look… _wanton._ "

Albus laughs, pulling his fingers out with a wince. "You ready?"

"I have never been readier," Scorpius says, grabbing his cock and stroking it as he knees back to give Albus room to move. "How do you want…you want to lie on your back?"

Albus flops back, pulls his knees up, and grins.

"Oh Merlin," Scorpius whispers, and starts to laugh as he lines himself up. "Are you nervous, Al?"

"No," he says honestly. How could he be? He trusts Scorpius completely. He has no self-consciousness with him. His body wants Scorpius so badly he can't think of anything else. "I really want you to fuck me now."

Scorpius meets his eyes and smiles. "Alrighty then."

Albus has to close his eyes as Scorpius presses inside. He runs his fingers over Scorpius's back, noting the little bumps of spine, and arse, squeezing, because how could he not?

"Is that okay, Al?" Scorpius whispers, almost moaning. "I can't believe how this feels."

"It's okay, better than okay," Albus says, head falling to the side with a smile.

"What does it feel like?"

"Err," Albus says, trying to find his words in the haze he's in. "Like when the winter is over and there's finally a sunny day and you go outside and the sunshine warms your skin for the first time in months."

Scorpius makes a strangled sort of sound next to Albus's ear. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Albus says, easy as anything. "Fuck me now. Hard. I mean, I think I want it hard. I'll tell you if I'm wrong."

Scorpius laughs, starts to thrust and his laugh falls off into a deep pant. "This is better."

Albus smiles. "You like topping better?" He doesn't give a damn. He'd do this forever.

"No!" Scorpius says. "Not what I meant. I mean." He pauses, hitting hard, deep inside Albus and brushing that bundle of nerves that makes Albus cry out, then Scorpius says, "I mean, knowing that we're in love."

Albus, to his horror, feels a tear prickle at his eye. But he forgets it quickly, lost in the tangle of limbs and the press of flesh and Scorpius's lips on his. When they come, they don't let go of each other.

***

They’re in the corridor, and Scorpius has a piece of lint on his sleeve. Albus plucks the lint off, and then Albus’s latent familial Gryffindor must come out, because he reaches over and laces his fingers with Scorpius's. Who cares who sees? They’ve never really cared about what anyone else thinks of them, why start now?

Scorpius turns and fixes him with a blinding smile.

It's—normal. Albus doesn't think he expected that.

In all the times he's thought hypothetically of having a boyfriend in general, and of having Scorpius as a boyfriend in particular, he's imagined...anxiety. But he was wrong—the anxiety was what came leading up to it, but now that they're there, all he feels is love, affection, normality.

And a distinct lack of care about what anyone else thinks. Especially random Hogwarts students who are all younger than them, anyway.

He squeezes Scorpius's hand as they walk into the Great Hall.

"We need to go talk to my cousins," Albus says.

Scorpius lets out a noise that's somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "I really blurted it out yesterday, didn't I."

Albus laughs, but he can feel his face turning red—he's not over the embarrassment yet. As much as he doesn't care about the third-year Hufflepuffs walking behind them down the corridor, he does care about his sister and cousins. "It's fine. I'm sure it's fine. Should we go sit by Lily?"

Scorpius shrugs in agreement; Albus feels it against his shoulder. Merlin, he doesn't think he will ever get tired of the touching. Last night he'd fallen asleep with Scorpius's hand stroking down his back and over his hair. It was perfect. His body reacted like it'd been dehydrated for years and finally found a source of water. He's not sure if the water in this analogy is Scorpius or human touch. Maybe it’s Scorpius's touch.

They walk into the Great Hall and scan the Gryffindor table for Lily. She's easy to find, with her rainbow-charmed ginger hair. When they sit, she stops eating and says, "Good morning!" She flashes them a huge smile, but says nothing else.

Albus tucks his bag under the bench and narrows his eyes at his sister. No way are they getting off that easy.

Scorpius elbows him, and when Albus turns, gives him a look that means something like _Should we bring it up? What's going on?_

Albus shakes his head and starts loading his plate, passing Scorpius the plain yoghurt he always insists on eating.

As Albus takes his first bite, he sees Rose get up from her seat farther down the table, pick up her plate, and come join them. She sits next to Lily, then Hugo wanders over from the Hufflepuff table with some of the granola the Hufflepuffs always seem to be eating. Within a few minutes, Louis and Roxanne have joined, and Albus sees Scorpius looking at all of them apprehensively as he eats his yoghurt.

No one says anything. Albus looks between Lily and Rose, figuring they're the most likely ones to say something, but they look resolutely at their plates. Uncharacteristic. His eyes flit to his other Gryffindor cousins, and then Hugo, but no one says anything.

Fuck it all.

"So," Albus says.

The cousins take it as a cue and stop eating, looking up at them. Scorpius squeezes Albus's hand under the table.

Albus swallows. "We're together." He picks his left hand up, out from under the table, showing their linked fingers. His eyes are on Lily, waiting to see her reaction.

Lily's face breaks into a wide smile. She stands and leans over the table, planting a kiss on Scorpius's cheek. Scorpius's cheeks turn red, but he looks transcendently happy.

Lily sits down, and Albus chances a glance at the rest of the cousins, bracing himself for having the piss ripped out of him. But they're all just smiling.

"Did any of you listen to James's game on the wireless last night?" Hugo asks, and it's over. Lily is shouting about some amazing thing James did, and everyone is laughing, attention off them entirely.

"What just happened?" Scorpius whispers.

Albus turns and shrugs, a grin on his face. He wants to kiss Scorpius, and he realises with a start that he can, and leans forward to press their lips lightly together.

Scorpius's eyes go wide and happy. "You just kissed me in the Great Hall."

"Yeah," Albus whispers. "Is that okay?"

Scorpius nods, smiling, and turns back to his plate. They sit in silence as the others holler about all manner of things, and then they stay seated as the others finish eating and leave for lessons. As she's leaving, Lily comes around the table and wraps an arm around Albus's chest from behind. She squeezes and whispers in his ear, "I'm proud of you."

It shouldn't make him feel giddy, to get his little sister's pride, but it does. He tilts his head back to look at her and sticks his tongue out. She smiles and jogs out of the room.

"What just happened?" Scorpius asks when they're gone. "You're going to have to translate that. I'm an only child. I have zero cousins."

Albus smiles. "They accept us. And not only that, they went out of their way to make us feel comfortable by not drawing attention to us. Remember last time one of them had a new girlfriend or boyfriend? Rose stood up and pushed Louis in the chest, screaming, 'GET OUT OF HERE!' They, uh. They didn't do that."

Scorpius laughs, a bubbly happy sound. "I can't believe this is real. I woke up today and," he lowers his voice conspiratorially, "you _wanked me_ , and then _you kissed me in the Great Hall,_ and your family is totally cool with all of it."

"Well, of course they are. I mean, I don’t think they need to know about the wanking. But the rest of it, I knew they would be. I only thought they'd make fun of us more. You're happy?"

Scorpius nods, smiling. "You're happy?"

Albus nods back. "Everything is perfect." And it is—except. "Except, that hex is not okay. And we have to go talk to McGonagall and Pomfrey at three. With the Auror assigned to the case."

Scorpius nods. "I've been thinking about the hex. I’m glad that McLaggen is in jail, and it worked out okay with us because, well, because we were already...there. Us getting together would've been accomplished by any number of other things, including just like, the passage of time. But it's—the hex is dangerous. I don't want to live in a world where that curse exists."

"I was thinking," Albus says. "We need a research project for Charms, right?"

Scorpius nods, his eyes intense—some mixture of happy and purposeful. "I was thinking the same thing. Library?"

Albus stands, "Maybe we should go see Madam Pomfrey first, so she can tell us what she knows about the curse. And she needs to do our check-up. Then library."

"We’re free until Potions," Scorpius says. "There's time, right?"

"Yeah," Albus says, "let's go." They head for the Hospital Wing for their check-up and to get the information they need. "Madam Pomfrey will probably agree to advise our project, too. Flitwick will be thrilled."

He grabs Scorpius's hand, threading their fingers together. Albus isn't worried. It'll take some time, but they'll figure it out. It’s what they do.

**Author's Note:**

> Context for the "dubious consent” tag: Albus and Scorpius are hit with a fuck-or-die curse. With knowledge of what the curse entails, they choose to get rid of the curse by fucking each other, hence it not being straightforward non-con. The consent issues therein are treated seriously and discussed.
> 
> Spotify playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/wz2ay0oiq6i8gof2yeu4552uu/playlist/1oLgzoxDoEKlCH8PHYmtrJ?si=jEuzsRu3RnKCuX1E0RkWyg)!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](https://aibidil.tumblr.com)!


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